


You Cannot Go Against the Force

by Loopie_Lupie



Series: The Will of the Force [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Dream Sequences, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings, Implied fuck or die, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sentient planet, Sex Pollen, Slow Burn, Welcome to Mirraq
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:21:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 98,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22360228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loopie_Lupie/pseuds/Loopie_Lupie
Summary: Sent to a new world that is considering joining the Republic, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan find themselves caught in a ceremony that they're not fully prepared to thanks to a miscommunication between languages. How will this ceremony effect Master and Padawn in the long run?Soulmate AU, more tags to be added as the fic continues.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: The Will of the Force [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609585
Comments: 311
Kudos: 202





	1. Welcome to Mirraq

Being called in to help mediate to avoid war was always tricky, but at the same time, Qui-Gon was at least glad they were willing to try to avoid fighting. Unneeded deaths were always worrisome to him, a part of him always curious if it wasn’t the influence of the darkside even on those who couldn’t feel it. Though perhaps part of why the Mirraquians had reached out to the Jedi was because they were more aware of the Living Force as their planet supposedly had a consciousness of its own. There would likely be many days of meetings with the council of the two races of this planet in order to help them keep the peace and he couldn’t say he was really looking forward to that. Alas, it was still his mission and he would do all he could to complete it.

They had been warned that the Morshiini would not be likely to use Basic and so he’d spent most of the fortnight of traveling to their planet working on learning their language. He wasn’t certain of his understanding of it, but he hoped that with the assistance of the translator that the Mirraquian matron had promised them that they would be able to stop this unnecessary war. So far, he and his Padawan had only had to deal with the Mirraquians, the matron’s daughter having met them at the landing pad with her bodyguard and escorted them where they would be housed during the negotiations.

It seemed all those who would be involved in this council would be housed here in this strange grove of trees that both Jedi suspected was artificial in formation just from how perfect a circle it formed. There were small homes, consisting of simply a living area with kitchenette and an attached bathroom, set within the branches of the massive trees. There were perhaps ten of these homes in each of the twenty trees and all faced inward towards the large stone pit in the center. Around the raised sides of the stone pit were ledges that their escort, Naiay, had explained were where those of the council would sit during the meetings.

Naiay’s purple tail swished lazily behind her as she stood in the doorway to the small home. “Gih, are you alright sharing the rut’il? We only expected one of you, Eir.”

The feline like woman’s kar’rym, words of respect she’d explained on the hoversled ride from the landing pad, still gave Qui-Gon’s mind a heartbeat of pause, but he did rather well hiding it behind a soft smile. “This is quite alright, thank you.”

Obi-Wan gave a slight nod of agreement with his Master’s words. The rut’il was small, but there was more than enough room for them to sleep. There was even a mound of pillows that they could rearrange to add some cushioning to the floor while they rested. It was better than some of the sleeping arrangements they’d had on other missions. And unless this planet went strangely frigid at night, and their flora suggested that was unlikely, they would be quite comfortable even with just their Jedi robes to cover themselves with at night. As it was, the Padawan was sweating just standing there in the heat.

“Gih, I’m glad!” Naiay grinned widely, her double fangs showing past her lips as she did so, gold-green eyes narrowing in her happiness. “I made sure that you got a rut’il of your own, and that there is food stocked for you. Filla’Jai, mm, my uh...m-mother? Gave advice on your biology so that you were not made sick, Eir.”

“We appreciate the worry, Lady Naiay, it was very kind of you.” The diplomatic smile still played over his lips, softening his features slightly as he looked at her.

Tail swishing a little faster, she gave a bit of a shrug as if to show it was nothing. “Gih, we need you to mediate, hard to do that if one can’t leave one’s bed, no? Eir.”

Qui-Gon gave a nod, “That is true, but you still have our thanks.”

Still she grinned, obviously pleased with having done well at her job of tending to their guests. “Gih, your council sashes are in the kael’il, mm ...bathing chamber, Eir.”

“Sashes?” Obi-Wan was the one to speak this time, confusion tipping his brows oh so slightly towards each other.

Naiay gave a couple quick nods, her tail slowing and winding around her own leg in what seemed to be a show of nervousness that neither Jedi quite understood. “Gih, so you may speak at the council...jada are not usually allowed a voice in these meetings, Eir.”

“Jada?” Qui-Gon had spent a good deal of time on the language of the Morshiini, but he’d not spent much time on Mirraquian as they’d said they were willing to use Basic.

“Gih, apologies! You call them...men? Eir.” Her cheeks paled slightly, the bright purple taking on a nearly silvered hue in her embarrassment.

“Ah, yes, we had heard you were a matriarchal society.” Still the Jedi Master smiled at her, hoping to calm her nerves some. “I must admit to not fully understanding your language yet, so please, the failing is mine, not yours.”

Tail tip twitching near her backward, at least in comparison to human forms, knee, she nodded hesitantly before smiling softly at them once more. “Gih, your translator, Di’ata, will be better versed in Basic. She shall be sure you understand the council talks, Eir.”

“Your Basic is quite good, Lady Naiay, please don’t feel as if you’re lacking.” Qui-Gon nodded gently at her, sincere in his praise of her grasp of the secondary, or perhaps it was tertiary to her?, language. “Might I ask a few questions of you in regards to the council?”

“Gih, of course. It is my job to be sure you are able to serve the council to the best of your abilities, Eir.” She nodded easily, her tail slowly relaxed from the way it’d wound itself so tightly around her leg in her previous nervousness.

Gesturing lightly into the small abode, Qui-Gon stepped back with one foot so that he stood at more of an angle to her. “Perhaps we could sit while we discuss what to expect?”

Her smile grew, her fangs starting to just barely poke out against her lips again as she nodded and stepped in through the doorway. She walked easily over to the pile of cushions and grabbed one to pull a little away from the rest before sinking down on it. Technically she was kneeling, her body balancing on her back facing knees rather than her rump like humans would, but she seemed plenty comfortable with that. Which the Jedi supposed was likely true as he wasn’t sure she could sit elsewise. 

It was mere heartbeats after Naiay had moved away from the doorway that her large bodyguard took her place standing there. He nearly dwarfed even Master Qui-Gon with his height, explaining why the doors and ceilings of the rut’il were domed so highly. At least if he were normal for those on this planet, and they had no reason to believe he wasn’t.

Both men followed her lead and took a cushion a piece, settling on them facing her in the well known meditation form a few feet in front of her. They suspected part of her guard’s duty was to be sure that no one tried to take advantage of her. Not that such a thing was really something to worry about in regards to the Jedi. Still, they would do all they could to be sure they didn’t offend their hosts in any way.

“Gih, what questions have you? Eir.” Her tail looped about the front of her along the edges of the cushion she rested on, her hands settled gently on her hips; though her expression of helpfulness and her kind tone dissipated the air of judgement that might otherwise have come across.

“Our sashes, is there a specific way to tie them?” Qui-Gon was sure that his young Padawan was paying attention, but he also knew that Obi-Wan didn’t really know how to handle diplomatic missions well as of yet.

“Gih, yes. Looped around your neck and leave the ends to hang over your shoulder, your eh…. Nare shoulder?” She gestured towards her left shoulder with her right hand and towards Qui-Gon’s left shoulder with the fluffy tip of her tail. “So that one end is in front and the other… phire, Eir.” Once again she gestured with her hand up and over her shoulder, pointing behind herself.

Both Jedi nodded at Naiay’s words, making a mental note to be sure they tied the sashes correctly for the council. It wouldn’t do them any good if they offered offense to those they were to help. 

“When will the council convene? And are there any rituals we need to be aware of?” The Jedi Master really wasn’t surprised by his Padawan’s silence; it would be all but non-existent when alone but for now he was quite behaved.

“Gih, tomorrow at sun-high. Tonight will be the Aiali’ko, the ceremony welcoming in the cool of the new season, we will burn the Vir’yai’ifir to promise honesty and the xia’tok to show our pledge to life on this planet, Eir.” Naiay smiled warmly at them. 

“Lih, meals, Naava, Rea.” Naiay’s bodyguard spoke suddenly, his low voice sounding almost like a growl, though without any real threat behind the words.

“Gih, right! Thank you, Vi’ruhl! Eir.” She smiled widely at her guard, eyes closing slowly as she looked at him; a feline like sign of affection. When he returned the slow blink, she turned back to her Jedi guests. “Gih, you’ll want to eat heartily in the morning, we do not take meals during council. You’ll be unable to eat until the council has concluded for the day. Eir.”

That was good to know. Thankfully Jedi stamina meant that they didn’t need to eat much, or terribly often, if it wasn’t possible, but they would take advantage of the information. A hearty breakfast wouldn’t be a bad idea just to be sure they were clear minded throughout the discussions. Besides, it wouldn’t do to let the food their host had stocked for them go to waste. One never turned down a gift from one’s hosts.

“During the council, are there rituals we need to be aware of? Or rules that we must know so we don’t break them?” Qui-Gon reiterated his question, wanting to be sure they knew as much as possible before going before this unknown council.

“Gih, there will be speeches by both Ta’liac, er, matrons I believe they were called in your tongue? But they are mostly just a welcome and promise for honesty through the meetings. Beyond that, it’s mostly being sure that you are speaking truthfully, for it comes back on our Ta’liac should you not as she is vouching for your honesty...and do not expect the jada to speak. It is not their right to speak at council. They are there only to protect in case things...do not go well, Eir.” The feline like female spoke softly, seeming protective when speaking of her matron and then filled with regret when she mentioned that the males were not given a position to speak at all. 

Vi’ruhl stood silently, his lack of response even to her tone as she spoke of the males being silent during the council showed how accepting he was of it. But then, for him, this was simply life and nothing to be bothered by. His voice was heard on her tongue at council; his mate always happy to hear his opinions in private. And for now, his voice was not needed here so he didn’t mind the propriety imposed silence that rested upon him.

“Honesty is the only way to help you make a decision in regards to the Republic and avoid war, I believe.” Qui-Gon glanced at his Padawan, happy to see the younger man nod in agreement. “Should they be lied to, I believe they would become even more enraged and that it would definitely turn to war.”

“Gih, I agree. Lies serve no good here, Eir.” She was glad to know they were in agreement with her people; it would make speaking with the Morshiini easier.

“Master,” Obi-Wan spoke softly, looking over to Qui-Gon. “I have a question if I may?”

“Of course.” Qui-Gon gave a slight gesture with one hand to indicate his Padawan was free to speak.

“You mentioned a ceremony tonight,” Naiay nodded easily, smiling slightly at him. “Do we need to wear the sashes for that?”

“Gih, no. The Vir’yai’ifir and xia’tok will be lit by the matrons, they will speak their promises of honesty and life, and we shall all go to our rut’il and spend the night with those we are close to.” She looked to her guard as she spoke, blinking oh so slowly at him once more, showing that there seemed to be more than just the bond of bodyguard and charge. “Tomorrow they will speak their promises again, and then the discussions will begin. Eir.”

“Is there anything we need to do for the ceremony tonight?” The Jedi Master was proud of his Padawan for catching his mistake at ignoring her mention of that night’s ceremony, but now he had a few questions of his own.

“Gih, I do not believe so. If you would like, Vi’ruhl and I can come join you as the ceremony begins so that we might answer any questions you have of the ceremony, Eir.” She looked a bit unsure, as if she thought she might be a bother to them, which confused both Jedi.

“That would be quite welcome, Lady Naiay. We are still learning about your people, and the chance to ask questions rather than make assumptions would be good.” Qui-Gon spoke gently, hoping to calm her nerves as he saw no reason she needed to worry about bothering them. They were there to help her people after all.

“Gih, I shall leave you to eat and bathe, hmm? Eir.” She seemed to relax some at Qui-Gon’s words and his kind tone.

The Jedi master nodded serenely at her question and she grinned at him before standing up smoothly, her tail waving calmly behind her. She turned on heel and headed for the door, passing Vi’ruhl who had stepped back to give her room. A short pause to wave gently at them, having seen such a thing in some of the research she and her Filla’Jai had done on those coming to help in the discussions with the Morshiini, and then she and her bodyguard disappeared from view.

“I suppose we ought to take the chance to do as she suggested, yes, Master?” Obi-Wan looked to the older man calmly, honestly rather glad when Qui-Gon nodded. “I’ll see what sort of meal I can put together you’d like to shower first.”

“Thank you, Padawan.” The Jedi Master smiled warmly at his Padawan before standing and taking his small bag of supplies from the table near the kitchenette with him to the bathing chamber.

Obi-Wan stood as well, looking over the cushions and grabbing an extra to set next to the one Naiay had used so that Vi’ruhl could join them in sitting when they returned. That done, he headed over to the kitchenette to dig around in the cupboards and icebox to see what could be made.


	2. Preparing for the Ceremonies

It didn’t take all that long for Qui-Gon to emerge from the bathing chambers, the Jedi trained for quick bathing even when they had long hair. Obi-Wan wasn’t quite finished putting together a meal for them, still working on chopping a few more items into the bowls of vegetables he’d put together for them. Most of the vegetables looked familiar that he was confident in serving it. Though the meat in the icebox had been left alone for the moment as he didn’t want to risk cooking something incorrectly and making them two of them sick after all. And at the very least the small nibbles of each of the vegetables he’s chosen to start chopping up hadn’t seemed to have any ill effects that he could feel upon his body as of yet.

Glancing over at his Master, the Padawan gave a slight smile at the sight of his master’s soaked hair before looking back to his hands to be sure he didn’t slice any fingers. “Actual water?”

Qui-Gon gave a soft hum of agreement, fingers brushing his hair back behind his ears. He wouldn’t put it up while it was still wet, but he could at least keep it out of his face. It always amused Obi-Wan that his Master was so very bothered by having his hair in his face. But then again, it wasn’t something that the Padawan had really had to deal with since his hair was always short besides the long bit that was braided. So perhaps he simply didn’t understand the frustration yet.

“Our meal is almost ready, Master.” He spoke softly, sure that the older man would be able to hear him in this small hut, as he grabbed the last of the items he’d decided were safe for the moment.

“Thank you, Obi-Wan.” The older man stepped over to the small table, giving a short look to the saddle shaped stools on either side of it before moving to straddle one.

Finishing the last of the chopping, Obi-Wan scooped equal portions of the silvery plant into each of the bowls. Leaving the knife on the counter for the moment, he took both bowls over to the table and set them down before realizing he’d forgotten to look for eating utensils. Sure, they could use their hands, it wasn’t terribly messy as there was no dressing on their salads, but he wasn’t entirely sure on customs or when Naiay and Vi’ruhl might return. Which meant it was time to dig in the cupboards and drawers for anything that might be a utensil. Finally finding what looked like forks with two prongs instead of three, he grabbed two and went back to the table.

Sitting on the stool across from his Master, Obi-Wan held one of the utensils aloft towards the older man. Not that he had to hold it out for terribly long before Qui-Gon took it from him. Body still growing, Obi-Wan dug into his meal, eating quickly as was usual for him. Yet another marker of his lack of patience in life. One day he would outgrow the need to shovel food into his face as quickly as he could, but today was not that day.

Qui-Gon ate quite a bit slower than he did, but didn’t seem to judge him for the way he ate either. And after their years together, neither was bothered by the silence as they ate either. Quiet meals were quite common between the Master and his Padawan, and in a way, soothing as it meant there was nothing required of Obi-Wan at that moment. Still, he felt that deep blue gaze on him as he finished his meal and he looked up from his bowl, head tilting slightly in question of what his Master was thinking. 

“You ought to clean up too, Obi-Wan. I’ll clean up from our dinner while you bathe.” 

The Padawan nearly argued, but realized that his Master did have a point. The transport they’d come in on had been full of livestock heading to one of the nearby planets and he was certain that between that and the way he’d been sweating under the heat here, he didn’t smell nice. And if there hosts were as animalistic as they looked, it could not have been pleasant for Naiay to be so close to them. With a soft sigh, he nodded and set his utensil across the bowl.

“Thank you, Master.” He took his own bag with an extra change of clothing was grabbed before he headed into the bathing chamber.

As small as the rut’il was, he hadn’t expected the bath to be so large. It looked like it could hold four bodies easily within the deep set basin, complete with built in benches along the edges. His surprise must have slipped through his bond with his Master as he felt a subtle wave of amusement touch his awareness. At least it looked simple enough to work, a handheld shower head or an option or a faucet to fill the bath. 

There was no reason to waste time or water for a full on bath in that massive tub. Especially when they had a ceremony that he had gotten the impression that they were required to attend. Stripping down methodically, utility belt and lightsaber set safely to the side, he stepped down into the recessed bath and reached for the handheld shower head.

He was quick about bathing. Even the Padawan braid took a very short time for him to clean. Dressed again, he slipped back out into the main room of their current living space. Obi-Wan was still using a towel to gently squeeze the water from the long section of hair that he would later have to braid again as he stepped from the bathing chambers. 

Qui-Gon had taken care of their dishes and gone to rest on one of the cushions once again, settled in a simple meditation form. Smiling slightly, Obi-Wan dug out the small brush from his bag and walked quietly over to his Master. Kneeling behind the older man, he didn’t even bother to speak before he started working on the tangled wet locks of his Master’s hair. 

Over the years this had become quite common. Even if it never should have. Still, he was happy to be allowed this moment of calm and the way it always soothed his stresses away as if it were he who was having their hair brushed out. He suspected that it was simply because he was touching his Master, was able to draw upon the older man’s own calm. At least it was the only reason he allowed himself to consider outside of his dreams.

It took a couple moments, but eventually Qui-Gon pulled himself free from the meditative state he’d been in. “You do know I’m capable of brushing my own hair?”

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan answered the question with a nearly cheeky tone as he continued to gently work the brush through the tangles. “But I can make it look nicer.”

The older man gave a barely audible chuckle and nodded slightly. “You have a point, young Padawan.”

Smiling a bit at how easily Qui-Gon gave into him, Obi-Wan tried to make sure that it wasn’t terribly obvious that he was running out of tangles that needed brushed. Though he still knew that he was going to have to give in at some point and stop, it was hard to try to control himself just yet. He knew he had no real right to touch his Master so freely, but he didn’t have the willpower to deny himself completely. Not when Qui-Gon had never complained about his help. Even the comment a moment before that might have been seen as reproach, was laced with gentle amusement making him sure that his Master didn’t mind.

The feel of that soft hair sliding between his fingers as he brushed it out, the constant motion helping it to dry some, really shouldn’t have been grounding to him. But it did help him focus on the now rather than worrying about what may or may not happen in the future. It may later taunt him, but he couldn’t be worried about that right now.

Deciding that his Master’s hair was free of tangles finally, he reached up and started to come the hair back away from Qui-Gon’s face as was the older man’s preference of hair style. It showed just how many times he’d done this over the years with how quickly the taller man tipped his head back so that his Padawan could work more easily at brushing his hair back. Though this time, instead of gathering it into a simple half-ponytail, he instead took the sides and around the back and started to braid them together in a slightly more elegant style than the Jedi was known for. But for ceremonies and the like, it seemed appropriate. And since his Master was still silent as he worked, he didn’t believe there was any complaint about his decision.

When he finished, the younger man had to gather his willpower and remind himself of his vows. No attachments allowed. Do not covet that which you may not possess. He knew better. And yet, it always took him time to find the ability to release it all to the Force. 

Moving smoothly to his feet, he moved to find himself a drink of some kind. Water seemed safe enough at least, the juices in the icebox might have some unknown effect, even on the Jedi, so he didn’t want to risk that before he could speak with Naiay about them. Setting the cup down when he finished his drink, he stepped over to the small window that looked out into the center of the grove of trees. They were moving a few rather large logs into the center of the stone pit as he watched silently, starting to brush out the long bit of hair that still needed braided once more before he’d be presentable for the ceremony. 

“Obi-Wan, come here.” 

Heading over to his Master, Obi-Wan let his curiosity creep through their bond lightly before he knelt on the ground before the older man. “Yes, Master?”

“Brush.” He didn’t ask permission, just assumed he had it, one hand held out for the requested item.

Drawing in a slow deep breath as he passed the brush to his Master, Obi-Wan pulled upon his connection to the Force. Sinking into a slight meditation, just focused on his breathing and the feel of the universe around him, he sat perfectly still for Qui-Gon as the older man set to work. It always took his Master more time to place his Padawan braid than it did Obi-Wan himself, but he suspected that was because Qui-Gon took the time to carefully separate all the short hairs away from that which belonged in the braid.

Even while focused on the Force, he was still aware enough to let his head be tipped to let Qui-Gon better see what he was working on. A small bit of fondness drifted through their bond and it shouldn’t have distracted him from his attempt at a light meditation. Alas, he still felt his heart speed slightly in a way that he prayed his Master was oblivious to. And as of yet, the Force had been willing to grant him such prayers. 

The slight tug against his scalp caused the tiniest of twitches of his lips, but otherwise he didn’t move. Though that was more than enough to gentle Qui-Gon’s hands as he worked at keeping the Padawan braid tight without pulling much. There were times such as these that part of Obi-Wan started to worry that perhaps his Master was too observant and had to be aware of every little thing that the Padawan tried to keep to himself no matter how he tried. 

“Turn, please.”

Focused as he was upon letting go of his emotions to the Force, he hadn’t noticed that Qui-Gon had already finished his braid. Still, it took him but a moment to pull himself back to the present and gave a slight nod. He didn’t bother to stand up, instead shuffling about on his knees to present the back of his head to his Master’s skilled hands so that the ponytail he wore might be gathered once more. Though again the older man spent the time to separate the short hairs that usually ended up within the tie when Obi-Wan attempted to do it himself.

Sunk back into his meditation, Obi-Wan realized he was a little too deep when he jumped at the sound of a soft trilling note that he hadn’t heard before. At least not that he could recall at this moment. Eyes snapping open, he forced a tense smile to his lips as he looked at the feline like woman standing at the door to their rut’il again.

“Gih, is this a bad time? Eir.” She hadn’t meant to intrude on any private moments, but with the first moon rising she knew the temperatures would soon drop and the Vir’yai’ifir ceremony would begin.

“Not at all, Lady Naiay,” Qui-Gon was the one to answer her, finally wrapping the tie into place over his Padawan’s ponytail. “Please, come join us.”

Naiay grinned brightly at Qui-Gon’s words and stepped happily into the room, dropping onto the same cushion she’d sat on earlier. “Gih, thank you. I worried perhaps we were interrupting...Eir.”

“Absolutely not.” Qui-Gon offered her a smile as he gently squeezed Obi-Wan’s shoulder to let the other man know he was finished.

The younger man moved to sit upon a cushion next to his Master again but noticed that Vi’ruhl was once again standing in the doorway and had ventured no further, causing Obi-Wan to speak before he could stop himself. “Is is acceptable for us to welcome him in as well?”

Golden eyes blinked a couple times at the sudden question and her tail twitched where it rested next to her legs, “Gih, yes, but that is up to you, Eir.”

“Then please,” Qui-Gon looked to the tailed man in the doorway at once. “Come join us as well.”


	3. The Night of the Aiali’ko

Qui-Gon’s curiosity on what form of loyalty Naiay’s bodyguard had for her was at least partially answered when he settled next to her and immediately wrapped his tail around hers. He had his suspicions over the way she leaned slightly into him as well and that was enough information for him at the moment. It wouldn’t do to be nosy without purpose. And curiosity was not a strong enough purpose.

“I am guessing the ceremony will begin soon?” 

“Gih, yes, once the temperatures drop. They’re almost ready with all of the vir’yai’ifir. It smells quite good when burning, Eir.” She was smiling gently as she leaned against Vi’ruhl, watching the two Jedi with a look of excitement that Qui-Gon assumed was from them being one of the first offworlders she’d gotten to meet.

“Is it a drastic change in temperature?” While they would likely be able to cope, Qui-Gon couldn’t fault his Padawan’s question as it would at least allow them to prepare.

“Gih, it is noticeable, but it does not get cold ...oh! Do you need uh ...” Naiay broke off, cheeks paling out again in what the older Jedi was realizing was their species version of a blush. “Gih, I do not know your word for it...do you need...warmth? Eir.”

“I’m sure we will be fine, Lady Naiay, but thank you for worrying.” Qui-Gon gestured lightly, not actually pushing at her with the force but a similar motion out of habit.

Her smile grew slightly at his words, glad that she hadn’t failed at seeing to their guests. Though she hoped that perhaps her willingness to show her comfort with her mate might encourage them to relax as well with her. The two men continued to set next to each other but weren’t actively touching one another and she started to question if perhaps their culture wasn’t as open about such things. And a glance at her beloved told her he seemed to be thinking the same thing. 

She sat up a little more fully to try to aid in their comfort; though she wasn’t willing to untangle her tail from her mate’s. Not on this night. Still she didn’t want their guests to be bothered by the affection that the Mirraquians so freely offered one another.

“Gih, by the third moon’s rise we will be ready for the ceremony to begin, Eir.” Naiay smiled warmly at the two Jedi, trying to help them relax as she was sure that had to be why they were being so distant around her and her mate.

“Third moon?” Obi-Wan couldn’t quite help the way the words slipped past his lips and after a quick clearing of his throat, he figured he may as well finish the thought out loud. “How many moons do you have?”

Well, it seemed that his Padawan could have spent a little more time reading up on this planet while they were travelling. Alas, Obi-Wan had seemed to need the time meditating and so Qui-Gon had allowed the young man to focus on that instead.

“Gih, seven. Eir.” The younger Jedi’s voice had seemed slightly shocked by the multiple moons and Naiay was suddenly curious if that wasn’t so common across the galaxy.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened and his brows rose up in surprise. “Seven? That does seem a touch excessive.” He remarked, in an attempt to be witty. “I imagine that must play havoc on the tides. I can’t recall being sent to a planet with more than four.”

Golden eyes narrowed and Naiay’s ears lifted slightly as her head tipped. She exchanged a look with her bodyguard before looking back to the Jedi.

“Gih, you got to decide how many moons you have? Eir.” Her voice showed the same shock as her face.

Qui-Gon swallowed back a chuckle and hid his smirk through sheer willpower as he turned his head to look to his Padawan. This should be quite interesting to witness. 

Green eyes suddenly widened and he looked over to his Master before seeing the amusement in the blue eyes looking at him. Oh Force, he really needed to think before he spoke. Yet another lesson that he was sure his Master was trying to teach in his own, very annoying, way. Sighing softly, he looked back to the feline like woman, trying to figure out how to backtrack from this.

“I suppose we don’t. I just don’t recall there being any planets with more than four.” At least not that had been recorded by those traveling the star systems.

She made a slight noise that neither Jedi could quite identify before replying to him. “Gih, legends say Mirraq had seven mates and that when she gave up on travelling the stars they decided to stay with her and guard her forever. So we are guarded by the moons. They stop the...uh ...rocks? That might hit us and hurt her. Eir.”

“Lih, any mate would give his life for his comfort, Rea.” Voice soft, the look Vi’ruhl gave Naiay was full of love as he spoke, oblivious to the Jedi's confusion over his choice in words.

A soft purr rumbled in her throat as she looked back at the tailed male with the same sort of affection. Qui-Gon found himself curious just how long they had been together to share such tender looks still. In his experience, most couples that had been together for long started to seem to almost fall out of love with one another. At times even to the point of seeming to barely tolerate one another. Which he supposed had helped him stick fully to his vows for he could not imagine how much it would hurt if the one he loved came to care so little for him.

The thin wooden slats that hung in the doorway in place of a normal door shifted on a rather strong breeze and both the Mirraquians breathed in deeply, soft smiles of content on their faces. A fine shiver raced up Obi-Wan’s spine at the coolness invading the rut’il. Though it wasn’t exactly cold, just unexpected. Truly, it was refreshing compared to the humid heat that had surrounded them for the last several hours since landing on this planet.

“Gih, very soon. Eir.” Naiay looked excited, though neither of the Jedi understood the reason behind the look.

There was definitely a cooling of the air coming on. More drastically noticeable than Qui-Gon had really expected for being the start of the season, but if this was how their season started he supposed it made sense. He hoped it didn’t continue to grow colder or they would need to find some sort of blankets before their mission were through. Though she’d said that it didn’t get cold and he only hoped that she gauged such things accurately. She was covered in fur after all. So there was no real guarantee. He might have to change his mind if the temperature kept dropping.

Curiosity as to how the ceremony would start, he had barely formed the question in his head, let alone managed to say it when a very clear gong sounded. It wasn’t quite overwhelmingly loud, but it was shocking at the very least and both Jedi automatically settled their hands against their lightsabers. Qui-Gon was the first to settle himself, making himself move his hand back to his own thigh as he looked at Naiay’s wide grin and the way her tail twitched excitedly. 

“I take it the ceremony is starting?” The Jedi Master looked towards the softly swaying wooden curtain in the doorway.

“Gih, yes, Eir!” The ambassador stood in one smooth motion and headed towards the door. “Gih, come, see. Eir.”

She gestured at them with her tail as she reached up to unhook one side of the curtain from the corner of the doorway and let it hang to the floor. The two humans stood up, moving closer to the door so that they might see past the Ambassador. At the center of the pit, there was now quite a pile of logs and on a ledge to each side stood a trio of the locals. One female and two males to each side.

“Gih, Ta’liac and her Yi’keh as well as her Aq’tael’i. Eir.” Naiay spoke with a low respectful tone, realizing they hadn’t understood quite what she meant. “Gih, er...m-matron, guard and comfort? No, her...mate? Eir.”

Qui-Gon nodded at the female’s words, smiling warmly at her. “Thank you.”

She gave a timid smile, glad that her struggle with remembering to use their language instead of her own wasn’t too much of a problem for them.

The slender female that looked quite a lot like Naiay, matching her fur tone, stepped forward and released a sharp yowl. She raised her arms out, palms down and her tail dropped to brush against the ground before she started to speak in Mirraquian, the words formed calmly and with just enough force to be audible to those in the rut’il above the council setup.

“Cih, with the breath of life Mirraq offers, I swear my words truth. Those I bring with me shall speak no more lies than I. We seek connection with Mirraq and all those here so that we might see one another’s hearts and find comfort and truth with one another. Neh.” She dipped her head gently as she fell quiet again.

The three that stood across from her were broader in shape and the males noticeably shorter even from this distance. But Qui-Gon had a feeling that such differences couldn’t mean much if the Mirraqui were still so nervous about a war with the Morshinii.

Again, the female of the trio stepped forward and gave a yowl that seemed to be their version of calling focus to themselves. She spoke with the same sort of cadence and while he could only understand about two-thirds of what was being said, he was decently certain that the Morshiini matron was saying the same things that her Mirraqui counterpart had but a moment before. When she finished, both matrons lifted their heads, looking directly at one another as they spoke again and with the languages layered atop one another, Qui-Gon couldn’t separate the words well enough to understand what was said and had to look to Naiay in question. He could explain things to his Padawan in full once he understood himself. 

“Gih, they said that tonight they light the vir’yai’ifir and the xia’tok to ignite the truths of those here, that tonight we seek comfort and balance before we must meet tomorrow….See? Eir.” Naiay gestured out to the center of the grove once more.

Qui-Gon looked out the doorway once more, seeing the two matrons each offered a torch by one of the males standing with her. Though he couldn’t be sure whether those were the mates or the bodyguards. Not that it truly mattered, he supposed. Each of the females took the offered torch and leaped down from the platforms with a grace and ease that few not using the force could manage from such a height. They lit the mass of moss and what looked to be some sort of flower that were piled along the large logs.

The smoke rose swiftly on the breeze, a surprisingly vibrant orange color to it. With flowers in the mix being burned, Qui-Gon had expected the smoke to be sweet, and indeed there was a sweet aftertaste left on the tongue when one breathed in through their mouth. Otherwise though, it was nearly bitter, likely from the over abundance of moss being burnt along with the flowers. Thankfully it wasn’t a terribly unpleasant smell.

Naiay breathed in deeply as she turned away from the door and stepped back towards the cushions they’d all been sitting on before. This time when she sank down next to Vi’ruhl, she seemed a good deal less worried about how affectionate she was as she immediately leaned against her mate, tail twining with his once more. 

Qui-Gon wasn’t terribly happy with the way the breeze blew a faint haze of the vibrant smoke into the rut’il, but this was part of their ceremony and it wouldn’t do to complain. Instead, he simply went to sit again, gesturing subtly at his Padawan to encourage Obi-Wan to do so as well. The younger man didn’t seem as bothered by the smoke; but then again he had been raised on a farming world where fires were a part of their life and had spent the majority of his life on Coruscant after that. Unclean air was likely nothing his Padawan even noticed.

Both men sat across from their hosts silently for a long moment, waiting to see if Naiay had anything else to explain to them yet. She seemed relaxed as she leaned against Vi’ruhl, both the Mirraqui breathing slow and deep. Following suit, the Jedi both breathed deeply as well, letting themselves grow accustomed to the herbal smell permeating the air.

Qui-Gon felt a sudden burst of panic through his Forcebond with his Padawan and turned his head to look at the younger man. Only to see the tension in Obi-Wan’s body as the young man looked down to his own lap, fingers curling against his thighs. He barely managed to push a bit of curiosity, an attempt to get Obi-Wan to explain what was wrong, before their bond shut down from his Padawan’s side. That was definitely not something that usually happened. But he also knew that Obi-Wan wasn’t likely to talk about whatever was wrong with Naiay and Vi’ruhl there.

Sighing softly, he drew in another slow deep breath as he turned his focus to the Mirraqui sitting with them. She didn’t have the same kind of tension as his Padawan, but there was no guarantee that it was an outside influence that was bothering Obi-Wan. So she might not be at all bothered by whatever it was the Jedi-in-training was dealing with at the moment. Though he was proud of the way that Obi-Wan had pushed himself into a meditation, obviously trying to deal with whatever it was that had caused him to panic.

They sat in silence, Naiay not seeming to be in any big rush to leave yet or break the silence around them. At least they weren’t doing anything unacceptable by this races’ beliefs. The Jedi did try to make sure that they did nothing to offend those they worked with. Especially with new races that were considering joining the Republic.

Still, he felt there was something strange about the lack of anything happening within this ceremony. It was only when he started to think more intently about why that was that his attention turned inward enough to notice that there did seem to be some kind of effect of these burning plants. Though he wasn’t certain if it was due to different biology or if this were something purposeful. Still, one couldn’t hurt anything by asking.

“Lady Naiay,” Golden eyes opened easily when he spoke to her and she had offered to explain anything they had questions about, so Qui-Gon went ahead with his current question. “Is there supposed to be an effect from the burning of the…” He broke off as he tried to remember the names of the herbs she had listed. “The Vir’y-”

“Gih, the vir’yai’ifir and xia’tok?” She smiled at him and nodded. “Yes, we will keep the vir’yai’ifir burning through the council meetings, it incites honesty in all who breathe the smoke. The xia’tok helps us show our pledge to continued life as well as to help us find our comfort and balance before the council begins. The xia’tok is only burnt at the beginning of the council to be sure we are in balance before we must risk argument that may hurt our hearts. It is to heal them before...you feel it, no? Eir.”

An herb to keep one honest didn’t sound like something that was terribly bothersome, but the other herb...that one might be an issue if he was correct about it.

“A pledge to life?” Her easy nod and smile didn’t help his uncertainty about what he feared this might entail. “Am I to take it these herbs are a type of aphrodisiac?”

“Gih, I do not know that term ...Eir.” She looked quite upset, leaning harder into Vi’ruhl’s side as she kept her gaze on the Jedi.

“Sorry, does it,” He searched for a word that would get through to her, finally settling on one he’d heard her use earlier when explaining the ceremony. “Encourage you to mate?”

She suddenly perked up again, ear tips twitching upwards as she tossed a look at her guard. “Gih, yes, it helps us to us mate with our Ger’il ihs, lets us find balance in our hearts that way. Eir.”

Well, then he definitely wasn’t misunderstand the way the fire seemed to be slowly igniting a desire within him that he rarely had to deal with. That also explained what had caused Obi-Wan’s moment of panic. His Padawan was less experienced in coping with such things than his Master was. And had noticed it happening more quickly than Qui-Gon had. 

Sighing softly, he set himself to ignoring the effect of the herbs, doing his best to keep his tone from taking on the sharpness of his annoyance. “This is something that we could have used a warning for.”

“Gih, but we did. We asked them to send only one unless they were comfortable together. Eir.”

“Lady Naiay, I feel that we have a different understanding of the word comfortable.”

Her ears dropped a bit and her chin tucked closer to her chest as her cheeks paled in embarrassment once again. “Gih, when we are comfortable together, we plan to mate upon the next saa’lieq...is that not how it is for your kind? Eir.”

Misunderstandings happened at times, but this was perhaps the one he was least prepared to deal with. “No, we consider ourselves comfortable with our friends, or in my case, I am comfortable around my Padawan, but I do not plan to...mate him.” It was a small mercy that Obi-Wan was in meditation at the moment so that he didn’t have to deal with his Padawan saying anything that might make this worse. 

Her eyes widened suddenly as she realized what mistake had been made and she made a distressed keening sound in her throat that had Vi’ruhl pulling her over his lap and into his arms. She leaned into his chest for a long moment before she drew in a shaky breath and focused once more on the Jedi.

“Gih, apologies, this wasn’t… we didn’t mean…” Again she broke off with that same note of distress before she could figure out what to say in Basic to get her meaning across. “Can you smell him? Eir.”

Qui-Gon wasn’t surprised by her apology, or her stuttering really, but that question? That definitely caught the Jedi off guard. In a way, he almost assumed that it had to do with their hosts’ animalistic form that meant they’d have a strong sense of smell. But when he drew in another short breath to have the air to answer, he realized that there was a soft scent on the air that he did recognize. Normally he only smelled that when he and Obi-Wan were forced to share sleeping space on a mission and he was suddenly glad that his Padawan had closed down their Forcebond so that his moment of surprise wouldn’t pass onto Obi-Wan.

Clearing his throat, he made himself look at her as he picked his words carefully so that he wasn’t attempting to lie, but wasn’t speaking the exact truth either. “I believe our people have less ability to smell things than you do.”

She made a surprised note low in her throat, but then gave a hesitant smile. “Gih, if you cannot smell him, than you should safe from the effects of the xia’tok, Eir.” 

This did not seem like it was going to go well, but he needed all the information he could get. “Safe from what effects, exactly?”

“Gih, when with one your heart can find comfort with, one must mate to combine your...life? Eir.” She believed that was a close enough word to what she was thinking of. 

“And if one doesn’t?”

“Gih, it has been many generations since one fought the xia’tok, but it is said that if one does not seek the comfort of their other heart, then theirs may stop. Eir.”

Shock and worry struck through the older Jedi and, as much as he didn’t want to, he still found himself dragging in a deep breath of the smoke tainted air. “Are you saying ignoring the effects of these herbs is deadly?”

“Gih, the legends say so. But we only bring those who are mates or Ger’il ihs to the council any more. It's been that way for many generations now ...Eir.” She sounded somewhat apologetic, obviously worried about how this might affect their negotiations the next day.

Sighing again, Qui-Gon’s eyes fell shut for a moment as he centered himself and worked at pushing against the effect of the burning herbs. Using the Force, he was able to push the intoxicant out. Or started to. Only to have his next breath bring in more of the smoke to his lungs and thus more of the herbal effects to his body. He couldn’t push it all out of his system, but if he was lucky, he could at least keep it from turning deadly for himself or his Padawan. Hopefully they didn’t need to fear that at all since their biology didn’t match those of Mirraq.

“Gih, if you can’t smell him, you are safe. I promise that. Eir.” It was strange for an adult not to be affected by the xia’tok, but the younglings tended to be completely immune to it as well, as if their bodies knew they weren’t ready to mate and breed yet.

“Thank you, Lady Naiay.” It was harder to say those words than it should have been, but he was still a Jedi and self control was something they were well trained in. Though the time to deal with this himself, and to talk his Padawan about how to cope with it, in private wouldn’t be a bad thing. “I’m guessing that the two of you are not immune to this, so please, do not let us keep you from your...ceremony.”

She grinned suddenly at his words, obviously happy to take him at his word as she stood up. Tails still tangled together, she tugged at her guard who stood as well, quite happy to follow after her as they left. Both pausing just long enough to give a quick wave before they slipped out of the rut’il and disappeared.

Left alone with his Padawan, Qui-Gon heaved another sigh, this one a good deal heavier than the soft ones he’d allowed himself while dealing with the ambassador. Looking to the younger man, he could tell that Obi-Wan was still distressed even whilst deep in meditation. Then again, the young man likely had been too deep inside his own mind and the Force to be aware of the conversation they’d been having and hadn’t known to control his breathing. Or at least to control the effect of the smoke.

He rarely pushed the matter when his Padawan sealed off their Forcebond from his end, but at the moment, Qui-Gon was more worried about their survival than their comfort. Pushing roughly against Obi-Wan’s shields, an intent to draw the younger man’s focus, he shuffled about to kneel before his Padawan.

“Obi-Wan… come on, focus on the now, Padawan….” He spoke lower than he usually did when trying to draw the younger man’s attention, but he wasn’t sure how good of hearing their hosts had and couldn’t risk being overheard at this moment.

It took several moments, but eventually green eyes fluttered open as Obi-Wan did as told, even if that mix of panic and uncertainty was still clear in his gaze. “Yes, Master.”

“Use the force, like you were taught to when drinking. Find the intoxicant and push it out.” He spoke low and calmly, working to keep himself from becoming more affected by the burning herbs as he did.

The younger man nodded, drawing upon the Force to work on doing as told. Qui-Gon could see his struggle, could tell his Padawan wasn’t sure why it wasn’t as easy as it was with alcohol. The Jedi-in-training had been deep in his own mind whilst his Master talked with the Mirraqui ambassador and didn’t understand that those deep breaths might help when the air was clean, but not when each breath brought in more of the smoke.

Normally, Qui-Gon would purge his own system and then help his Padawan, but right now he couldn’t even purge his own system fully. In a way, it felt as if the Force were refusing his call, ignoring his request for help in clearing the intoxicant. He’d never felt this strange disconnect. When he was around a null event, he’d lost the feeling of the Force completely. This time, he could still feel the Force around him, but it refused to listen to him in any way. 

Looking to his Padawan, the Jedi Master could tell that Obi-Wan seemed to be having the same issue at the moment. At least if that building panic in those green eyes was anything to go on.

“Master...I can’t.” 

That distress in his tone was near heartbreaking to the older Jedi and he couldn’t help but reach out and gentle grip the younger’s shoulder in what he meant to be a soothing touch. Not that it seemed to come across that way to Obi-Wan seeing as he stiffened at the touch, breath catching and that panic just increasing. Pulling his hand away again, Qui-Gon silently cursed in his head and made a mental note to let the Order know that this planet had some strange rituals and more research must be done before any other delegations were sent here.

“Concentrate, Obi-Wan.”

“I’m trying, Master but I...Master I don’t understand.” The younger man’s voice showed the same distress that Qui-Gon himself felt at his inability to get the Force to respond.

“Alright, just relax then.” Definitely something he needed to bring up to the Order when he got back to Coruscant, it wasn’t only his own weakness to the way the herbs were affecting him. “I thought I was the only one having troubles.”

“The Force doesn’t seem to be working right, Master, are you having the same issue?” Green eyes looked up at Qui-Gon as if praying for an answer to his struggles.

“Yes, I can feel the Force but it doesn’t seem to be willing to do what I ask of it.” His honesty seemed to help soothe the younger man some and that was worth what personal strength it took for him to admit that outloud.

“Same. Have you ever had this happen before?” The conversation seemed to be helping to ground the younger man, giving him something besides his own body to focus on.

Qui-Gon shook his head slowly, trying his best to breathe shallowly now that he could definitely feel the effects of the smoke surrounding them. “No, even around the null event it didn’t feel like this.”

Both men frowned as they sat there, trying to figure out a way to ignore what was happening to their bodies due to this ceremony. Obi-Wan’s hand eventually found its way to the end of his braid, tugging at it in a much too obvious show of nervousness. One day he would break that habit, probably when he passed his Trials, but today was definitely not that day.

“How are you handling...this?” It wasn’t that he wanted details per se, definitely not enough to make his own mind go places he couldn’t allow, but he needed to be sure that Obi-Wan was safe and that he wasn’t putting his Padawan’s life at risk.

A blush bloomed brightly over Obi-Wan’s cheeks and the young man looked down at the ground between them again, taking several moments to find an answer. “I feel too warm, my heart rate is higher than normal.”

Qui-Gon nodded calmly, taking a quick stock of himself and finding himself in much the same state. He was certain that his Padawan was at least as physically aroused as he was from the effects of this smoke, but he also couldn’t blame the young man for mentioning that. Drawing in a slow breath, the Jedi Master had to question just how far he believed legends from so long ago if it had been generations since anyone had ignored the effects of these herbs. 

What he did know for sure was that he was absolutely being affected and that Naiay had been right about the fact the herbs increased his ability to smell things. Or at the very least, his ability to smell Obi-Wan even as he sat in front of him. The last time he’d been able to smell the younger man so clearly had been when they’d been stuck sharing a sleeping bag on Hoth for warmth and he’d woken with his nose pressed against his Padawan’s scalp. It should be impossible to smell him at this distance, especially since they’d both bathed but an hour or so earlier.

“Go ahead and meditate, Obi-Wan. It might help us both.” It was likely a wasted hope, but it was all Qui-Gon could think of to try to get them through this.

Obi-Wan didn’t have any of the trepidation that his Master held at the moment and nodded easily at the suggestion. He closed his eyes, seeking the comfort of the Force again while his Master watched for a few long moments before trying to follow suit.

Again, it seemed the Force was determined to ignore him. Even something as simple as asking the Force to take away the emotions he knew were unneeded, and perhaps even detrimental, didn’t work this time. It was as if there was another entity there keeping the Force in check, not allowing it to aid him as it had so many times throughout his life. 

Reaching almost desperately for the Force, he felt his spine stiffen when something else touched his mind. The Force was willing to take his emotions when he released them, but it never tried to influence him, it never pushed him to the light or the dark in any way, it never _wanted_ anything from him. This new presence, it definitely wanted his attention and for him to do as it wished.

**Calm,** it whispered to him, **relax, breathe...deep.**

As much as he knew he shouldn’t follow this strange presence’s suggestions, he still found himself doing so. His breathing slowed, but the breaths he did take were deep, drawing in as much air as he could possibly hold before slowly releasing it again. That definitely didn’t help the physical state of Qui-Gon’s body, but he couldn’t quite manage to find enough presence of self to ignore that which was whispering to him.

**Welcome me into your mind,** another gentle urging that he didn’t know how to ignore.

Instead, he let himself open fully to this presence, curious if perhaps it might finally answer why the Force wasn’t heeding his call. _Who are you?_

**Do you not know?** Amusement laced the words, the presence clearly thinking itself obvious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mirraquian dictionary:  
> Yi'keh (Yih-keh) - Bodyguard  
> Aq'tael'i (Ahk-tail-ee) - used to refer to one's mate, translated loosely as comfort  
> Ger'il ihs (G-air-ihl ih-sh) - Translated as "Comfortable Together" but refers to those who are courting one another  
> Saa'lieq (Saw-leek) - Heat cycle/estrus


	4. Giving In

Thinking for a moment, he recalled mention in the note of the file that spoke of sentience not of the people, but the planet itself. _Mirraq?_

Amusement and pride this time, **Very good. It usually takes time even for my children.**

_Your children? Those who live here?_

**Very good. You learn quickly.**

_Are you why the Force won’t answer me?_

**Yes.** The planet seemed to recognize that he wasn’t alright with that answer. **Breathe. Calm. I shall explain.**

_Please do._ His own mental tone was sharp, his disapproval of her influence showing clearly, even if he still felt himself following her suggestion again by taking calming breaths.

**Your mind can only take so much influence. And here, I am stronger than your force. I do not mean to upset you. Only aid you as I aid my children.**

_And what aid do you believe I need?_

**You are compatible with him, he is your comfort whether you intended it or not. Am I to ignore that?**

_I ignore it._

**It tears at you to do so. I only wish to give you that which you need to be centered so you might help my children avoid unneeded death.**

_I can still help them without breaking my vows._ Still his thoughts came sharply in response to her.

**Perhaps you could have elsewhere. Here...I influence all. I silenced your Force without intent. I created that which burns and awakens that which you hide from.**

_I hide from nothing._

**Do not lie to me, youngling, you hide it from yourself as much as you can. But here, tonight, you must not. Not if you wish to be balanced.**

_Even if I were to admit to hiding something,_ as if his understanding of what she spoke didn’t already give that away, _I would never hurt Obi-Wan._

**I do not ask for pain.** She felt offended at the thought, as if she could never want harm upon any of those upon her surface. **I ask that you be honest, that you pledge yourself to life as my children do. That you give yourself and your comfort one night.**

Qui-Gon wished he could pull himself from his meditation, but the attempt seemed to do nothing. Mirraq was not ready for this discussion to end and she would not release him now that he had opened himself to her. But then, perhaps it was because she knew he would not welcome her in again.

**Calm, youngling. Breathe. And listen to me.**

_I will not be bent to your will._

**I did not ask you to be. I asked you to be honest with yourself, with your heart. And to balance yourself as the rest do. Can you not feel them?**

He nearly answered her question in the negative, but it was less than a heart beat after her question that he felt the fluctuation of the Living Force. Either it was simply the time in which those around them all reached a point in which they wished to deal with the effects of the herbs, or she was making sure he was aware of all those around him. Their desire flowed around him, teasing his own higher in a way he didn’t quite know how to ignore. He wondered if it was the planet’s fault, if Mirraq was breaking down his shields so that he had no choice but to be aware of those around him.

_I can feel them._ His voice was hard, admitting to that which he so often tried to pretend didn’t exist. At least usually it wasn’t this intense.

**I would never encourage you to be with one you’re not compatible with. I ask for your pledge to life, for you to show that pledge with the one you care so much for. You are not as sturdy as my children, I do not wish to see you harmed, youngling. But I do not believe you can handle my gift to my children if you do not give into yourself.**

_How would I explain this to him?_ His voice was laced with a pain he would never show outside his own mind.

**You need not, for I have spoken with him as I spoke with you. All you need do is accept this night.**

With that, he felt her withdrawing from his mind. She hadn’t needed him to shape an agreement in his mind. Not when he knew she’d felt it in his heart. And oh how he might hate himself for this come morning light, but with everything he could feel around them as well as the effects of the smoke upon his body, he knew he didn’t have it in him to fight. Not if Obi-Wan were to agree in any way.

Blue eyes opened but a second before green which focused upon him with a heat of desire he’d never expected to see and it was Obi-Wan who first broke the silence.

“Master, did you-?”

“Yes, Obi-Wan, I spoke with this world as well.”

“Did she-?” Again, his Padawan couldn’t quite form full question.

“Speak of how to deal with the herbs they lit? Yes.” 

“Then are we-?” This time green eyes flicked away from him, cheeks pinking with embarrassment over what he was insinuating. 

“I am willing.” He didn’t have it in him to make this decision on his own, he couldn’t take the decision away from his Padawan.

It was bad enough that he was willing to give into this desire even this once. Though before he could sink into his self-hatred, his Padawan was moving.

Obi-Wan knelt up in a quick motion, his hands landing upon Qui-Gon’s shoulders to balance himself after such a quick movement. His lips pressed to his Master’s hungrily and the older man knew he didn’t have the control to stop himself when given such obvious permission. One arm slipped around the younger man, pulling him forward against Qui-Gon’s body.

The younger man easily shifted to straddle his Master’s lap, pressing up against him out of instinct rather than experience. Moaning into the kiss, Obi-Wan’s grip on Qui-Gon’s shoulders tightened, his breath hitching at the first hint of friction. 

Qui-Gon’s freehand carefully slipped between them to unfasten his Padawan’s belt, the older man craving the feel of flesh against his own. If he were going to give in and betray his vows, he planned to do so fully. Deepening the kiss with the younger man, he tossed the belt aside in a quick motion before his hand slipped back between them, this time pushing aside the edges of Obi-Wan’s tunic. His own breath caught slightly when he touched the younger man’s skin.

It had never been something he allowed himself to dwell on, dreams he would admit to no one even as he struggled to release them to the Force. In this moment, he didn’t have the strength to deny himself. It was likely to haunt him later, in more ways than he was willing to consider at the moment. Right now, he cared for little else than getting more of his Padawan’s skin free to his touch.

He only loosened his hold on the redhead when he had the man’s tunics loosened and was able to push them off the younger’s shoulders. Pulling back from the kiss, he looked over the revealed skin with a much more intense gaze than he had ever allowed himself before. Leaning in close once more, he dropped one more quick kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips before he gave into urges he would deny any other time and began to drag his lips along the younger man’s skin.

One hand settled warmly against his Padawan’s spine, offering support there to keep him close as Qui-Gon’s mouth drug down Obi-Wan’s throat, the skin littered with kisses as he went. The soft breathy noises that the redhead released were sure to fuel dreams he dared not consider right now. Instead, he focused entirely on the here and now, the building desire around them flowing through the Living Force and into Qui-Gon’s awareness. 

He felt Obi-Wan’s hands slide from his shoulders and up into his hair. What he hadn’t quite expected, was for the younger man’s fingers to tighten within his hair, pulling at the long strands and tearing a sudden moan from him. The sound was little more than a growl, rumbling in his throat. Though it was plenty enough to urge Qui-Gon into motion, rocking up onto his own knees and gently lying his Padawan back onto the cushion he’d originally been sitting upon. One hand had to settle against the floor to keep himself balanced as he leaned over the younger man, kissing him once again.

His free hand found the younger man’s chest once more, dragging along the warm skin, this time with a bit more intent behind it. Fingers dragging along the edge of his Padawan’s leggings, he gave another low note of need at the way Obi-Wan’s hips lifted up faintly, chasing the brunet’s touch. It helped encourage him, for the moment, that they both wanted this. Or at the very least to get off with the herbs burning below their rut’il. And honestly, Qui-Gon’s self control was slowly splintering into pieces as he tried not to completely lose control of himself.

Fingers slipping beneath the edge of Obi-Wan’s leggings, he tugged them down carefully before he finally pulled back from kissing the younger man. Sapphire eyes dragging over all that pale flesh, he made a soft note of wonder mixed with his lust. Tongue flicking over his lips, the Jedi Master wished that he could risk allowing himself to taste his Padawan, but he knew that wouldn’t be something he could give up again if he gave into the urge. It was better to stick to only the basics and what they must do to see themselves through this frustrating ceremony.

Which at least gave him the permission to touch. A chance he definitely wasn’t going to give up without indulging to the fullest. His fingers looped gently around the redhead’s heated desire, stroking almost teasingly with how slow he moved, learning the shape of Obi-Wan’s length. That sweet moan that the Padawan gave was music to Qui-Gon’s ears and he knew he would never forget that lovely sound. Even if this were the only time he might ever hear it. 

He gave another groan when the redhead tugged at his hair again, this time with enough force to pull Qui-Gon back down for another kiss. Not that he had to fight hard for it. No, the brunet was quite happy to give Obi-Wan anything he desired. Kissing his Padawan hungrily, the brunet was surprised that the Jedi-in-training still had enough brain left to think about getting his Master’s clothing off as well. Still, that was a task that he was more than happy to help with. At least what little help he could offer when he refused to give up his hold upon the younger man’s length.

Obi-Wan seemed only worried about getting his tunics open, not bothering to try to get them fully off of the older man. Once he had the access, the redhead’s hands slid along Qui-Gon’s skin, moving almost nervously in their slowness. And oh if that didn’t break the Jedi’s Master’s heart. Not that he had it in him to stop if not actually told to by his Padawan. 

His breath caught when Obi-Wan’s hand slipped lower. The younger man’s hand didn’t dive under his leggings, but he did cup his Master’s length, his breath catching for a moment as he did so. 

Drawing back from the kiss, Qui-Gon looked down at his Padawan in question, seeing the nervousness in those lovely green eyes fluttered open. One brow raised in silent question, the flush on the younger man’s face was quite beautiful but didn’t answer the question he asked. Though the way the redhead’s gaze darted down towards where his hand still cupped Qui-Gon definitely did. Well, nervousness wasn’t too unexpected with where the Padawan’s mind seemed to be going with things.

Lucky for him, that wasn’t where Qui-Gon was quite willing to go. He would give in as much as necessary, but he knew he couldn’t ask this of his Padawan. Both in general and because they were both under the influence of some kind of intoxicant they couldn’t counter.

“Relax, Obi-Wan. I’m not-”

“You...can…” Obi-Wan’s voice was steadier than expected, by either of them, but Qui-Gon still shook his head.

“I’m not going to.” Qui-Gon’s voice was clear, his decision showing no uncertainty. Still, he dropped to rest upon his elbow rather than his palm so that he might cup the side of his Padawan’s face to draw the younger man’s eye back to his own face. “This,” His meaning was clear as he tightened his hold upon the redhead’s length for the next upstroke. “Is plenty.”

“Yes, Ma-” Obi-Wan was cut off by Qui-Gon’s thumb pressed against his lips.

Shaking his head softly, Qui-Gon gave a tense smile. “None of that right now, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan gave a slow nod and then carefully parted his lips so that he could draw the thumb into his mouth instead, sucking playfully at the digit. The action earned him another low note of need from his Master and the length in his palm twitched making him grin cheekily even as his tongue played against the digit in his mouth. 

Panting softly as his desire slowly grew, Qui-Gon kept his grip snug upon the redhead’s length and sped the pace of his strokes. Thumb sliding over the tip of the younger man’s length with every upstroke, he let himself watch his Padawan’s face as the redhead was pleasured. Sure, it would torture him later, but right now, just being allowed this was heaven.

As he continued to work the younger Jedi’s length, Qui-Gon was pleased to feel Obi-Wan’s mouth go slack as he started to become overwhelmed with pleasure. The younger man started to moan softly, hips lifting into the motion of his Master’s touch, his own hands falling lax at his side. And at his particular moment, Qui-Gon really didn’t mind it. Not when it meant he could more clearly focus on the sight of his Padawan losing his mind to pleasure.

It wasn’t too surprising that the young man was so quickly nearing his end; he was still so full of hormones and didn’t tend to give into his bodily urges anyways. But he was beautiful as he laid there, hips pushing up into Qui-Gon’s hands, lips parted as he panted, green eyes nearly shut but just barely managing to look up at his Master. It was an image that ought to be somewhere to be admired more often. Alas, at least it would forever be burned into Qui-Gon’s mind.

Thumb drawing back slowly, he rolled the younger man’s lower lip out just the slightest bit as he continued stroking his Padawan with intent. His focus was rewarded as Obi-Wan’s back arched and he froze, jaw falling lax as he moaned loudly, spilling himself over Qui-Gon’s fist. After a few seconds, the redhead fell back against the cushion again, breathing heavily, eyes closed as he took a moment to let his pounding heart slow some. 

Qui-Gon released the other’s length almost reluctantly, not wanting to push his Padawan to more than they must. Raising his slick hand up, he glanced at the mess upon it for a moment. It took less time than it should have to convince himself that he couldn’t just wipe his hand on the Jedi robes his Padawan laid on and that it would be rude to leave the mess on the cushion. Instead of either, he lifted his hand to his face and licked away the fluid there, only just managing to hide what would otherwise be a rather embarrassing moan as he tasted his Padawan. 

The redhead’s cheeks pinked when those vibrant green eyes opened and spotted his Master cleaning away his mess. He gave the tiniest of moans before he got control of himself once more. The younger man took in a deep breath to center himself before he lifted his hand under Qui-Gon again. This time, he wasn’t as shy about his touch, his fingers slipping in under the older man’s leggings to take hold of him once more.

Another low rumbling moan came from the older man and his head hung for a moment as pleasure rushed through him. He could feel those around them rushing towards their finishes and his own desire was increased through the Living Force. Panting softly, he dipped his head down for another kiss with his Padawan, chasing his last chance to do so. Qui-Gon moaned heavily into the younger man’s mouth as he let himself push into Obi-Wan’s grip on him. 

He gave into his bodily urges much more regularly than his Padawan ever had, but there was still something about someone else’s hand up on him that made it better. And being Obi-Wan’s, made it even better than that. Not that he would ever put voice to those thoughts.

Hips rocking into the other’s touch and the energy swirling about them through the Force, Qui-Gon moaned into his Padawan’s mouth near constantly. Though with a single moment of clarity, he reached down to push his leggings down, remembering for but a second that this was his last pair until they had a chance to wash their other sets. He was glad that he had balanced himself upon his elbow earlier for he was sure his arm would have buckled if he’d still been holding himself upright. Even in this position, he could feel the muscles in his upper arm twitching faintly. 

He could feel himself pushing closer and closer to his finish, but his Padawan was being a bit gentle for his tastes. Reaching down with his freehand, he laced his fingers through Obi-Wan’s in order to guide him into not only a tighter grip, but a faster pace. His moans took on a deeper note, counting closer to a growl of pleasure as the two of them worked him quickly towards his own end. Qui-Gon couldn’t be sure who it was, and in a way was thankful for that, but whoever was in the rut’il nearest theirs reached their end and that push along with his and his Padawan’s touch tipped him over the edge.

Groaning into his Padawan’s mouth, he just barely managed to twist his hand to catch his release before it fell to make a mess that would need cleaned up. Qui-Gon was certain that if he had to touch his Padawan much more, he would be weak and unable to stop himself from trying to ring another orgasm from the younger man. Instead, once he’d recovered enough, he pushed himself back up onto his knees. Looking down at Obi-Wan, he let that image burn into his mind before he drew upon his self-control once more, hoping they had done enough to please the sentient planet.

“Go rinse off, I don’t know how sensitive the Mirraqui and Morshinii are to smells. It wouldn’t do to offend.” He nodded towards the bathing chambers as he spoke, not terribly surprised to see the younger man blush again before going to do as told. 

You showed your pledge, I thank you. Contentment came through the touch of the planet’s sentience before it disappeared once more.

While Qui-Gon had quite happily taken care of Obi-Wan’s mess, he wasn’t nearly so fond of his own taste and so, after quickly readjusting his pants, he stood up and headed to the kitchenette. Running water in the bath meant likely running water in the sink, which he was happy to find he was correct about. Washing his hands, he took the small hand towel and dampened it before setting about wiping himself clean of sweat as well. 

At least the air seemed to be less orange, and a peak out the doorway told him that the fire was burning down some. He hooked the curtain over the doorway again and readjusted his tunics. Belt in place again, he set about setting up the pile of cushions into a couple decent sleeping platforms instead. Stretched out on his own sleeping pad by the time Obi-Wan emerged from the bathing chambers. 

“Master, I-”

“No, Obi-Wan. This was something we were pushed into. We don’t need to discuss it. Sleep, so that we might have time to eat breakfast in the morning before the council convenes.” Qui-Gon rolled onto his side, facing away from the other sleeping mat.

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan’s voice was soft as he stepped over to what must be the sleeping platform his Master had prepared for him. 

The younger man flopped onto the cushions, turning on his side away from his Master in turn. He wished sleep came as easily to him as it did for Qui-Gon, but that rarely happened. Laying there, he refused to let him mind cycle through what had just happened, knowing it would only torment him with want that he could not give into. And with the Force’s presence being strangely iffy, he didn’t trust that he could pass it off to the Force at the moment. 

As usual, it was his Master’s breathing turning calm and steady that slowly started to lull him off to sleep. Halfway to unconsciousness, he reached up and drug his thumb against his lips in a mock of his Master’s touch earlier, and as he slipped off to sleep, a few words passed his lips, unaware that his Master wasn’t quite asleep yet.

“Tha gaol agam ort, Master.”


	5. The Council Convenes

As usual, it was Qui-Gon who had awoken first, probably with the sun as he tended to on most planets. Obi-Wan wasn’t quite so reactive to the increase of light, or whatever it was, that woke his Master so early while they were on missions. Instead, it was the sound of movement over near the kitchenette that woke him into sitting up, one hand on his ‘saber before he realized it was just Qui-Gon trying to figure out something for breakfast.

Both hands lifted to rub against his eyes carefully, trying to help clear his vision as he pushed the lingering tiredness away. He could still smell smoke on the air, but he was grateful for the fact Naiay had seemed to be telling the truth and the aphrodisiac like herb from the night was not being added to the continued fire. That was definitely appreciated. He didn’t think he’d have been able to handle if that was a constant thing. But then, he supposed, hard to have a council if everyone’s minds were elsewhere.

Standing up, he scratched lightly at the pressure mark his braid had left upon his cheek whilst he slept. “Can I help, Master?”

The older man looked back at him and gave a slight shake of his head, “No, I’ve got it taken care of. But thank you, Obi-Wan.”

Nodding, Obi-Wan went to the bathing room, taking care of his normal morning rituals quickly before he returned to the small table they’d eaten at the night before. He sat down and waited silently. Less because he was still waking up and more because what did he dare say right now? How badly had the night before damaged their relationship? Not to mention that Qui-Gon had said they weren’t going to discuss what happened, which normally meant it was something that the older man would prefer to pretend didn’t even exist. That hurt some, but perhaps it was a good way to continue on as they always had? Would it be a way to keep their relationship as Master and Padawan as it had been?

He sighed softly as he stared toward the curtain covering the doorway, wondering if he would be able to follow his Master’s lead when he couldn’t trust in his ability to release his emotions to the Force. At the very least, he would try his hardest. He would do his Master proud on this mission even if it meant a few struggles for himself personally. No one else needed to know about his problems. Then when they were able to leave this blasted planet, he could release all his stress away to the Force once more. He’d make it through; he had to.

Flinching slightly at the clink of a plate landing in front of him, Obi-Wan only then realized just how deeply he’d buried himself in his own thoughts. It was much more explainable when he was actually in meditation rather than just staring into space and thinking. Though Qui-Gon didn’t ask, and so he didn’t bother to explain. Not that he was sure how he would anyways.

Instead, he looked down at the plate his Master had set out before him. It was nothing fancy, it never was honestly, but it did look like a decently large meal to get them through most of the day at least. He wasn’t sure he agreed fully with the idea of not breaking from negotiations for meals, mainly because he knew some people got quite grumpy when they were hungry, but if this were the rules for their council, then he really had no choice but to follow it. 

Realizing that Qui-Gon had settled down across from him without getting either of them drinks, Obi-Wan couldn’t help the faint smile he gave as he stood up and headed to the kitchen area. They didn’t have any tea with them at the moment thanks to not having a chance to stop by Coruscant before they were sent on to Mirraq, but it was best to keep their bodies healthy either way. And so he got a couple cups of water for them and took those back to the table, setting one in front of his Master.

Qui-Gon blinked a couple times before looking up to his Padawan and smiling at the younger man as Obi-Wan moved to take his seat across from him again. “Thank you.”

“It’s not tea, but it’s the best I could do for now…” He was curious about a couple of the fruits he’d seen on the counter and wasn’t sure if they’d be as easy to juice as they looked, but that could be dealt with later when they had the spare time.

“It’s fine, Obi-Wan, I’m not complaining.” As if to prove his point, the older man took up his glass and took a deep drink before his attention slid back to his plate.

The younger man nodded and started to eat silently. Silence was quite common between him and his Master, neither feeling the need to constantly fill in the gaps. Though this time it was less to do with a lack of anything to be said, and more because Obi-Wan couldn’t think of what might be acceptable to say. Not when his mind continued to flash back to the night before, questions coming after them that he knew better than to voice if he wanted to avoid things becoming awkward between them. Or at least avoid it becoming awkward from his Master’s end as well.

Thankfully, Qui-Gon didn’t seem terribly worried about filling the silence either. Both cleared their plates, even if Obi-Wan felt as if he’d eaten just a little bit too much. A hint of discomfort could be ignored when there was purpose, and being sure that they were clear headed and not distracted by hunger through the meeting that day was definitely a good reason. 

Standing up, Obi-Wan took their dishes into the kitchenette and rolled up his sleeves so he could wash them up quickly. Once his hands were dried again, he thought about how to pass the next hour or so until council would convene. Normally he’d settle himself into meditation or katas, but there wasn’t really room here for him to work through the katas and he didn’t see meditation helping much when he couldn’t release anything to the Force. 

Just as he was about to go sit on the floor in an attempt to meditate when Qui-Gon spoke.

“Obi-Wan, I’d like you to keep an eye on those at the council today.”

“Master?” Obi-Wan turned to look at the older man, unsure as to what it was Qui-Gon needed of him.

“I don’t expect that we’re in danger,” The redhead agreed with that statement as Naiay was so very excited that they were there and hadn’t mentioned that they weren’t welcomed beyond the Morshiini not wishing to speak Basic. “But I do not trust them all to say everything they’re thinking. I want you to keep an eye out for anything that says we might have either gained representatives or lost them on particular arguments. When we know how to focus the information we give, we will be able to do more good.”

“I see.” Obi-Wan gave a slow nod as he spoke, drawing in a slow breath as he set that task as a focal point in his mind for the day. “I’ll keep an eye out and report back to you this evening.”

Qui-Gon offered one of those tiny smiles that the redhead enjoyed more than he really should. “Thank you, it will let me focus more completely on the talks as they happen.”

“Of course, Master.” Obi-Wan returned the brunet’s smile with one of his own. “I was thinking about trying to meditate for a while before the council begins.”

“It's not a bad way to pass the time. I’ll make sure you don’t meditate too long.” Qui-Gon waved a hand towards the cushions they’d slept on the night before, as if to shoo his Padawan along to do as had been suggested.

“Thank you, Master.” Obi-Wan nodded before turning his back on the brunet, pretending that his mind didn’t flash back to the night before every time he looked at the cushions.

“Focus on the Force, Padawan. I do not trust this planet.” Blue eyes had widened slightly in surprise; the last few words hadn’t been intended. Apparently those herbs to ensure honesty definitely worked on the Jedi as well.

The redhead settled on the same set of cushions he’d slept on and looked up to his Master. “Yes, Master.”

He agreed with Qui-Gon’s words, but he hadn’t expected the directions either. Still, he was resolute in his decision to ignore the planet’s consciousness this time as he sank into the calm of meditation. He could feel the presence of the planet, the way she tried to influence him, to get him to open to her again. This time though, he ignored her as much as he could. 

Instead, he focused on the familiar feel of the Force. He pulled at it, trying to will it into answering him again as he sat there. Still, it felt as if the Force were aware of him but not quite willing, or perhaps even able, to respond to him. Everytime he thought he was about to make progress, the sentience of the planet they were on would suddenly try to take his attention again and the Force would retreat from him as she pushed at him. 

This was frustrating in a way he really didn’t know how to handle.

He was tempted to open up and let her in just so he could tell her to leave him alone. So that he could try to get her to stop pushing him further and further from the Force. Right now, he knew he needed to be able to release the emotions that swam about within his head and heart. And so far, that had been beyond his abilities. In a way, he was thankful for Qui-Gon’s request of him in regards to the council as it would give him a good reason to keep his attention anywhere but on his Master for the day.

A wave of gentle amusement rushed over him, Mirraq apparently aware of his thoughts even if he weren’t welcoming her into his mind. Which meant he simply couldn’t hear her right now and he really wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not. Still, his Master had asked him to focus only on the Force and if there was one thing he tried not to do, it was disobeying Qui-Gon. Especially on something as important as this felt.

He finally decided to focus on his breathing, an attempt to center himself simply by ignoring the existence of emotions he couldn’t look too deeply into at the moment. It wasn’t worth the risk of it leaving him more unstable than he was already. There was a wash of some kind of emotion, one he couldn’t quite place but that reminded him in a way of the Creche. And finally, the push of the planet’s sentience stopped pushing at his mind.

Sucking in a sharp breath suddenly, he was somewhat surprised to feel Qui-Gon reaching out to him through their bond. Usually the older man left him alone while he meditated unless it was a guided meditation. Though this felt more soothing than directing and he felt himself relaxing as he hadn’t yet been able to manage during his meditation. He let the calm that Qui-Gon was projecting towards him sink into him, let it become a part of him, feeling himself finally start to settle even if he couldn’t yet release anything to the Force.

For now, he let himself drift some, mind focusing on what he knew of the Mirraqui already so that he might be as prepared as possible for the council. Naiay was kind enough to them, excitable even, but that didn’t mean the rest of those here on this planet would be. They knew the Morshiini didn’t trust those who weren’t born on Mirraq, but that might be for good reasons. Especially if those who lived here were sensitive to the planet as she had insinuated the night before. A fear of damage being done to the planet might be part of their problem and a decent worry. Though, not as much as he would have first thought with her ability to override the Force. No other planet he’d been near had ever managed that. Though, in all fairness, he hadn’t been to a sentient planet prior to this either. He’d have to ask Qui-Gon about it at some point.

A hand landed on his shoulder and drew him quite quickly to the present and out of his meditation. Blinking a couple times as he refocused himself, Obi-Wan looked up into his Master’s face with a slight smile. Which was when his mind decided to replay the sound of the moans his Master had given the night before when he’d had his hand upon Qui-Gon. Cheeks flushing, he locked down the bond he shared with the other, praying that flash of lust hadn’t transferred to the older man, and looked down at his own lap, doing his best to will those thoughts away. He really shouldn’t be questioning what sort of sounds his Master would make if he were to be on his knees for a _reason_.

“Gih, apologies...if we do not go now we’ll be late for the speeches… Eir.” Naiay’s voice was almost timid, but a very welcome distraction from where Obi-Wan’s mind had gone. 

It also served to get Qui-Gon to turn away from his Padawan, looking instead at the female. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Lady Naiay.”

Her eyes widened slightly and her ears tilted down slightly in a show of confusion at his words, but she didn’t argue, “Gih, do not forget your sashes, Eir.”

“We won’t,” Qui-Gon spoke gently as he held up both of the beautiful green sashes that he’d grabbed just before going to pull his Padawan from his meditation.

“Gih, good. Can you put them on while we walk? Eir.” She glanced outside, obviously gauging the time they had to make it down to where they should be.

“Of course.” Qui-Gon separated the two sashes, holding one out to Obi-Wan.

The redhead took the sash he was offered as he stood up, focusing on Naiay to help clear his mind of his _far from appropriate_ thoughts. Stepping over to the doorway, he waited for his Master to follow the Ambassador first before he headed out onto the wooden walkway that ran before their rut’il. The pathway zigzagged between the massive trees down towards the council platforms, a gentle angle making it surprisingly easy to walk along.

As they followed after her, both Jedi wrapped their sashes around their shoulders as she had instructed them the night before. What they hadn’t expected was for each of them to end up with a Mirraquian hand helping them adjust the sashes so they sat broadly against each of the Jedi’s necks so that the color could be seen clearly. The color almost perfectly matched the gauzy shawl that Naiay wore over her shoulders, and the supposed it showed that they had her permission to speak at the council.

The walked in silence down to the edge of the stone platforms and to the edge of a stairway that would be nerve wracking if not for the balance both men knew they had. There, Naiay drew to a stop and turned to face them, a serious look on her face, though calm, that of an Ambassador and not an excited young woman as they’d both become adjusted to seeing on her.

“Gih, please remember to show respect. Do not interrupt the Ta’liac. The rest will expect it to happen at some point. Just touch my arm and I will call you focus. Eir.” With that, and a quick look of affection at Vi’ruhl, she turned and headed down the stairs.

Both men followed her, Obi-Wan walking after his Master with Vi’ruhl following at the end. She lead them a little over two thirds of the way down into the platforms and then finally stepped off of the thin stairway. Standing just off center of the platform, she gestured lightly at the men to join her, and they each lined up next to her, a glance at the other platforms telling them that usually it was only the female of any pair who stood at the front of the platform. And as Vi’ruhl moved to stand behind them, they hoped that Naiay would tell them if anything they were doing was wrong. 

She smiled at them, eyes narrowing slightly in an attempt to calm them both as she stood next to them. Her tail flicked slightly behind her, though from excitement or anxiety wasn’t entirely clear. Though, before either of the Jedi could ask her what to expect now, the female from the night before that had started the ceremony then stepped forward to the edge of the lowest of the platforms above the fire and gave a sharp yowl.

Too late for questions now. The Council had convened.


	6. A Long Day

As long as he had been doing diplomatic missions for the Order, Qui-Gon should have been able to keep his calm throughout the day of negotiations. But even with Di’ata standing behind him and Obi-Wan translating everything into Basic, he was about at the end of his rope when it came to keeping himself calm and looking serene for the talks. The constant yowls from each of the females whenever they wished to speak definitely wasn’t helping him any either. In fact it was giving him a headache as often as he had to interject something and thus required Naiay to give one of those ear ringing notes right next to him. 

By the time the council had decided to stop deliberations, he felt as if he’d been kicked in the head by a fathier. Or perhaps been stuck in a stampede of them, he wasn’t quite sure. Whatever it was, he just wanted a chance to clear his mind and get a bit of quiet. 

And he realized that they were likely to be here for a while since they’d made hardly any headway on anything all day long. This was going to be a several day project, he was sure. The Morshiini were quite xenophobic and he wasn’t certain he’d be able to convince them that joining the Republic wouldn’t mean people would end up here regularly and possibly messing up their planet. Which he could understand with her sentience and that she might be angry with her ‘children’ as she’d called them if they allowed people to come in and damage her.

When the Ta’liac agreed with one another to end the talks for the night, he hadn’t been able to help the soft sigh he gave of relief. Though he suspected that it was the feeling of relief that had likely passed along their bond that had earned him a look of sympathetic understanding from Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon forced a slight smile to his lips for his Padawan, needing a few minutes to get his brain to fully switch gears.

“Gih, Qi’reta should have dinner ready, Eir.” Naiay was smiling, seemingly pleased with how things had gone during the day.

Which was definitely more confidence than Qui-Gon had in how things were going. Still, she knew her people better than he did and he tried to let himself believe that perhaps they had made some kind of impact on the Morshiini. And preferably a good one at that.

“Don’t let us keep you, Lady Naiay.” The Jedi Master gave her a smile, sure that they could find their way back to the rut’il they’d been given for the time being.

“Gih, she’s bringing it to us at your rut’il...do you...do you want to eat alone? Eir.” Her ears dropped slightly, her sadness evident even if she wasn’t trying to show it.

Time in peace and quiet did sound appealing, but he wasn’t one to risk offending their host. “No, we’re happy to eat with you. I just misunderstood what you meant.”

She perked up at his words, her lips spreading in a wide grin before turning and heading back up the stairway, her tail flicking excitedly. Qui-Gon supposed he couldn’t blame her for being excited when, from what he’d gathered during the meetings, he and Obi-Wan were the first outlanders in many years at least. Had he never met someone from another planet before back when he was her age he probably would have been just as excited. And it really wouldn’t do him damage to deal with the young female and her ‘guard even if he did have a headache. A Jedi’s life was full of uncomfortable things.

Following Naiay up the stairs, Qui-Gon put his hands together behind his back, the thumb and forefinger rubbing at the webbing between the thumb and forefinger on the other hand. It was likely a worthless hope, but he prayed that it did something to help the throbbing in his temples. Sadly, it didn’t seem to be helping. He was desperate enough to try switching which hand was being massaged, hating that it definitely seemed as useless as he’d thought it would be when he heard of it. 

Obi-Wan tried to send calming waves across their bond, but Qui-Gon was only vaguely aware of it as focused as he was at working his way past this headache. Usually he’d have dealt with this migraine a while ago, helping the blood flow slow down with the use of the Force. Once again, he found himself silently cursing this planet and its effect on his ability to call upon the Force.

Either Qi’reta had somehow known when the meetings would call to an end for a night, which Qui-Gon severely doubted as even being part of them he hadn’t been sure the last hour or so, or she’d gone to set up their dinner earlier, complete with extra chairs, and just waited around for them. Either way, the burgandy furred young woman, at least she looked a few years than Naiay, jumped up with a little squeak from the table and gave a polite little bow to them as she entered. Though when his mind caught up with him, he realized the bow was much more likely aimed more specifically at Naiay than all four of them. 

“Gih, go home," Whatever word Qui-Gon had thought he might hear from their sweet seeming Ambassador, her calling this young child an asshole was definitely not it. 

Eyes widening, he turned to Naiay with an expression that gave away a hint of his anger as he couldn’t conceal it completely, "What?"

She looked at him with wide eyes, tail stiffening behind her and his sharp tone. Vi'ruhl took a step forward to put himself part way between his mate and the Jedi, a growl rumbling in his throat. Both were quite aware they’d offended the Jedi in some way, for even Obi-Wan looked rather unhappy as he stared at the two Mirraqui.

"Gih, did I say something wrong? Eir." Her voice nearly shook, her nerves showing in how her tail was held almost completely stationary behind her.

Anger burned within the Jedi at how she seemed to act like such a rude word had any place when dealing with someone working with you, especially one who had done their job quite well from what little he could tell.. "What did you call her?"

"Gih, I called her Az'hul… like....family? Small family… er… sister? Eir." Still she sounded uncertain, peaking around her bodyguard’s shoulder with wide eyes.

Both Jedi paused, blinking in surprise and glancing at one another before Obi-Wan gave a slight smile, just barely biting back a laugh. “I suppose this isn’t as bad as my mispronunciations on Ando, Master.”

Sighing softly, Qui-Gon’s eyes fell closed and he raised one hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose for a moment before he forced himself to look at their guests as his hand dropped once more, his expression a good deal softer than it had been a moment before. “Apologies, Lady Naiay. There is a word that sounds very similar to that in Basic, but it has a much ruder connotation.”

She made a soft sound of understanding, her stance relaxing and she gently touched Vi’ruhl’s arm to encourage him to step back from his protective stance. “Gih, languages can be hard. I’ve caused a couple… troubles in our earlier meetings with the Morshiini. Eir.”

The older of the two Jedi tipped his head in the slightest of bows. “Thank you for your understanding.”

Naiay gave a soft trilling note in response to his words before she turned to Qi’reta, speaking in an affection laced stream of Mirraquian. 

The burgandy furred female, who had looked very nervous at the Jedi’s sharp tone, drew in a short breath and nodded, starting to relax. She stepped up to Naiay, stretching up to rub her cheek against the Ambassador’s with a soft purr. Her tail brushed against the purple tail of the older female before she slipped past her to brush her cheek to Vi’ruhl’s arm before she was disappearing out the door. 

“Gih, shall we have dinner then? Eir.” The Ambassador stepped further inside the rut’il, making her way to one of the stools around the small table to sit down.

Qui-Gon gave another careful nod, sure that the pain would be even worse if he were too active about it, and followed suit to take a seat. He tried to pull at the Force again, but was answered with nothing but a small burst of what seemed to by sympathy from the planet. She could sympathize with him as much as she pleased, but he had no energy to waste on her if she couldn’t help the throbbing in his temples that matched his heartbeat. Oh this was definitely going to be a long evening.

And as he sat, he was suddenly confronted with the realization that standing pretty much still for over eight hours was no something his body had been alright with. At least now that he’d taken the pressure off the muscles and they started to twitch and ache. Wonderful. He lifted his hands up to rub at his temples with his fingertips gently, ignoring the concern that his Padawan leaked his way through their bond. Obi-Wan didn’t seem to mean to pass that on so he didn’t feel too bad about ignoring it.

“Gih, are you sick? Eir.” 

Only years of practice kept Qui-Gon from groaning at her seemingly useless words. “Lady Naiay, might I ask you a question that might risk offending you?”

She blinked a couple times at him, but gave a slow nod.

“Those words, your Kar’rym, do you always use them?” Still he worked at his temples, eyes only open enough to see the young female sitting to his right.

“Gih, for respect. Only family do not use them…Eir.” Which explained why he hadn’t recognized her using the start and end phrase when speaking with her little sister.

“Would you then do us a favor? Think of us as family to you. You need not rely on propriety when we’re here like this.” It was probably wrong of him to ask this of her, but he just couldn’t take anything else pushing at his limits with this headache.

She stared at him for a moment before looking to Vi’ruhl and the two of them seemed to have a silent conversation that was held through looks, twitches of tails and ears. Finally, Naiay looked over to Obi-Wan.

“Gih, you agree with your comfort? Eir.” Her voice was soft as she looked at him intently. 

Obi-Wan blushed softly at the reminder of what she believed existed between him and his Master; the night before likely hadn’t helped in the slightest. “Yes, Lady Naiay. Please do not worry about upsetting us, we are friends here.”

She grinned widely and nodded. “Then we shall talk as fam...er, as friends.” 

Thankful that this had actually worked, Qui-Gon took a deep breath and made himself try to ignore his headache again. “Shall we eat then?”

Obi-Wan happily picked up his dish when Vi’ruhl opened the pot sitting in the center of the table; he would never be one to turn away food. From there, their dinner went somewhat more smoothly. Though the younger of the Jedi had stepped up to take on the majority of the conversation so that Qui-Gon didn’t need to bother. By the time they’d all finished eating, Naiay was purring at a story about a young girl who’d invaded a home owned by two Wookies and their child and was eating all their food. 

“You’ll have to come tell these stories to the Qito before you leave.” She was grinning as she spoke, tail tip twitching excitedly.

“We’d be happy to.” Obi-Wan spoke up without checking in with his Master for he was well aware of Qui-Gon’s unfulfilled dream of working in the Creche; of course the older Jedi would want to speak with what he assumed were their children.

Naiay purred happily again at his agreement, her tail seeking out her mate’s. And even Vi’ruhl was smiling slightly over the stories that Obi-Wan had been telling. Though after a while, his gaze turned to Qui-Gon, the smile fading a bit.

“Are you unwell?” His voice was laced with concern as he leaned down slightly over the table so that he could try to meet Qui-Gon’s eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” The older of the Jedi tried to wave off the Mirraqui male’s worry with a tense smile.

“Then you are sick, now, yes?” Naiay’s focus shifted to him immediately at his words, reading between the lines better than Qui-Gon had expected.

He gave an almost imperceptible sigh, but knew that lying to them wasn’t going to go well. “I have a headache, it’s nothing to worry about.”

She frowned a bit, glancing at Vi’ruhl before looking back at him. “An aching head...should we leave you for the night? Will rest help?”

Qui-Gon nearly had to bite his tongue to keep from answering immediately that yes, he would appreciate them leaving. Thankfully, his Padawan jumped in.

“We have some medications that will help and a few hours sleep will see him better before the Council tomorrow.” Obi-Wan stood and went to dig in the small bag of supplies they had to find the medication he’d mentioned.

Another silent conversation happened between the Mirraqui and then they both stood. Vi’ruhl gathered all of the dishes and picked them up before heading to the doorway. He paused there for Naiay.

“We will meet a little earlier tomorrow, we will come check on you with time for you to get ready. We will bring your clothes as well.” She smiled as she spoke, stepping over to stand with her mate.

“Clothes?” Both Jedi looked up at her in surprise.

“Yes, Qi’reta was tasked with tending you, so she took the worn clothes from the kael’il to be washed. We will bring them to you in the morning.” 

Unexpected, but still, manners persisted and Obi-Wan nodded at them, “Thank you. And have a good evening, thank you for letting us take an early night.”

Not that such a description really fit the time frame since it was well past dark already. Still, it was kind of them to leave them once the learned of Qui-Gon’s headache. And with one last grin and soft purr, the Ambassador and her ‘guard were gone leaving them alone.

“Here, Master,” Obi-Wan took one of the small pills over to Qui-Gon who hadn’t yet managed to get up from the table. “This will help.”

Blue eyes lifted to his Padawan’s face and Qui-Gon smiled softly at the younger man as he took the offered pill. “Thank you, Obi-Wan.”

He hated taking pills, but at this particular moment, he didn’t really have an option. So he swallowed the pill before he started to rub at his temples again. They were definitely going to have to warn the Order about this planet so that future Jedi would be better prepared for being stuck on this planet and blocked from the Force. Which he suspected was nearly half of the reason for his headache. After all, he was on edge even before the council and all of the arguing and yowling. 

Head bowed forward, he leaned on his elbows on the table so that he could still try to physically force his headache into submission. Not that it really seemed to be working. He’d only just had the thought when he felt hands on his person.

Stiffening some, he spoke softly, though the question was clear in his voice, “Padawan?”

“Yes, Master?” Obi-Wan was carefully gathering Qui-Gon’s hair in his hands, making sure not to pull on any strands.

“What are you doing?” He’d frozen, fingers still even against his temples as he waited to figure out what was happening. 

“Soren used to do this for me when I got stress headaches when we were in the Creche…” The younger man carefully twisted the handful of hair he had before draping it over Qui-Gon’s left shoulder gently. “It might help yours as well.”

Qui-Gon made a noncommittal sound in his throat as he sat there, waiting to see exactly what was going to happen. Honestly, he really wasn’t prepared in the slightest for this on a normal day. Let alone one in which he’d been fighting to pretend he could forget how beautiful his Padawan had looked lying under him and moaning. Now, he had Obi-Wan’s hands upon him again and he wasn’t sure he had the strength left to pretend that he was unaffected by it.

Hands gently resting on Qui-Gon’s shoulders, the one having carefully slipped under the twisted mass of hair, Obi-Wan’s thumbs pressed to the base of his Master’s neck, one on either side of the spine. A steady, though careful, pressure slid his touch up the back of Qui-Gon’s neck. The younger man set a smooth rhythm, stroking slowly up and down along the line of the muscles.

“Just breathe, let the med help. I won’t hurt you, Master, I promise.”

It wasn’t a worry of Obi-Wan hurting him; that was never a fear in Qui-Gon’s mind. But instead that he might say, or do, something inappropriate when he was so close to his personal limits already. Perhaps if he focused simply on sitting silently and breathing while Obi-Wan continued to massage along the back of his neck, he could get through this without having to admit to his failings. At least not out loud.

It had to be an illusion, as there was no way the medication had kicked in so quickly, but Qui-Gon could nearly believe that Obi-Wan’s touch was helping soothe away the headache. Perhaps it was just that it was the two of them alone for the first time in several hours, so he had no reason to still be on edge. Breathing slow and deep, he actually forgot to keep rubbing at his temples. Instead he just sat there, letting his Padawan work at his neck, eyes closed. 

Obi-Wan’s hands working at relaxing his muscles was doing more than Qui-Gon expected, but it still wasn’t chasing away all of the pain yet. Out of habit, he tried to pull at the Force once again, trying to guide it into releasing the tension in his neck as well as the pressure within his skull. Amazingly enough, this time it worked! 

“Master, did you-” The young man’s voice was soft, but his surprise was as clear in his tone as it was through their bond.

“Yes, Obi-Wan, I felt it too.” Qui-Gon reached up and set one of his hands over his Padawan’s on the back of his neck. “The Force helped, I’m alright now.”

Obi-Wan had stilled the moment Qui-Gon touched his skin, and he nodded behind his Master’s head and took his hands away from the older man’s skin. “Good.”

Qui-Gon stood up from the table to stretch now that he didn’t feel like tipping his head back would risk his head exploding. Turning to face his Padawan, the older man gave a sympathetic smile to the young man when he noticed the way Obi-Wan was shifting his weight around on his legs. He’d been about that sore only a few moments earlier before the Force actually listened to him.

“You should try using the Force, Padawan, there’s no reason to suffer if it’s not necessary.” He patted Obi-Wan on the shoulder before heading to the ‘fresher.

He didn’t have a clean outfit to change into, but, seeing as the weather had been decently comfortable, he also hadn’t sweat much. Still, he thought he’d go ahead and take a cloth and wipe himself down before sleeping that night. Qui-Gon had just put his tunics back on when he felt a heavy burst of frustration through the Force Bond he shared with his Padawan. Wrapping his belt around his waist, he headed back out into the main room to check on the younger man.

“Obi-Wan, what’s wrong?” 

Looking up from where he’d settled himself on the sleeping cushions, Obi-Wan couldn’t help the frown on his face. “I know the Force helped with your headache, but I can’t seem to get it to work for me.”

The frustration made plenty of sense now and Qui-Gon wondered how he’d gotten the Force to help ease his pain if it wouldn’t work for Obi-Wan. After a moment, he had an idea and moved to kneel in front of his somewhat distressed Padawan.

“When you were working on my neck, did you try to use the Force as well?” 

“Yes, Master. It’s habit.”

“I think perhaps it is when we work towards the same goal that we’re able to reach the Force.” As he spoke, Qui-Gon settled his hands upon his own thighs in what he wasn’t sure was comfort or habit. “Shall we test the theory?”

The younger man nodded his agreement. He was given a slight smile by the older man, and they both turned their focus to the Force again. Frowning slightly, Obi-Wan shook his head after a moment, once again feeling as if the Force were beyond their reach.

Qui-Gon felt the same, hating that the Force had been willing to help him but seemed to be refusing his Padawan. Of the two of them, he’d have rathered it’d been Obi-Wan who was left feeling better. He hated to see his Padawan uncomfortable like this. Sighing softly, he leaned forward and set his hand on Obi-Wan’s knee gently, ready to voice an apology for not being able to help the younger man. 

The words died on his lips though when Obi-Wan grabbed at his wrist, pressing down on his hand, and gave a little gasp. Blue eyes widened slightly and Qui-Gon had to snap close their bond from his end so that he didn’t transfer the white hot rush of lust that struck through him at the memory of the night before when Obi-Wan had fallen apart under his touch. Staring at the younger man, he reminded himself to focus on the present and nothing else. It was the only hope he had to keep his sanity on this annoying planet that kept him from being able to meditate as usefully as he usually did. 

Obi-Wan’s grip finally relaxed on his wrist after a moment and those beautiful green eyes opened, a smile on the young man’s lips as he looked at Qui-Gon. “Thank you, Master.”

Pushing back on thoughts he was usually much better at ignoring, at least during his waking moments, Qui-Gon gave a slight nod to the younger man. He didn’t understand exactly what was going on with the Force right now, but it seemed to be enhanced by the two of them being in physical contact. The hint of amusement that he could feel from the subtle presence of the planet that he couldn’t fully ignore did nothing to help him understand, but it did cause a touch of annoyance in him. How any one dealt with her long term, he didn’t know.

Normally, he would have suggested they try a guided meditation together, see if it didn’t help them reach the Force better to help them release their emotions and worries. However, right now, he didn’t trust that he could keep his Padawan from learning things that the young man should never have to know about. Which meant that until this mission was over, they were likely stuck trying to cope on their own. Part of him questioned if speaking with the planet would help him understand things better, and he knew she would be plenty willing to come speak with him again, but a larger part of him still held onto a resentment over what he’d been pushed into doing with his Padawan. He couldn’t just forgive her; even if she were why he and his Padawan were still healthy.

Shaking himself mentally from his thoughts, he stood up and moved to sit on his own sleeping pad. “Tell me about what you saw during the Council today.”

That seemed safe enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mirraquian Dictionary:  
> Az'hul (Azz-hull) - Little Sister  
> Qito (Kih-toe) - Child(ren)


	7. Another Day at the Council

Waking with the sun was usual for Qui-Gon, but staying in bed after regaining consciousness wasn’t quite so common. But to be able to lay there, Obi-Wan in his arms, he was willing to give up on routine. Instead, he laid there, gently stroking the backs of the fingers of one hand down the redhead’s cheek tenderly. The way the younger man nuzzled against his shoulder just made him smile and lift his head so that he could brush a kiss to the top of his love’s head. 

Fingers dragging lightly down Obi-Wan’s arm and then back up to his shoulder, the older man let himself just enjoy the warmth of the body pressed to his own. His eyes closed against the brightness of the sun as they laid there, content to stay where he was for at least a while still. Eventually he’d have to move, but it would harm neither of them to let themselves savor this closeness for a few more minutes.

“Then you know what it could be.”

The sudden feminine voice startled Qui-Gon and his eyes snapped open, though he saw nothing even as he looked about the bedroom they were in. “What?”

Amusement washed over him, though he couldn’t say it was his own, and then that disembodied voice spoke again. “I see you make a habit of lying to yourself, youngling.”

He frowned as he gently shifted so as to not to disturb Obi-Wan, who seemed to be unaware of whoever, or whatever, was speaking. Sitting up finally, he hated that he still couldn’t identify exactly whose voice it was that he was hearing. 

“Not usually.” His voice was flat as he answered her, trying to figure out what she wanted when he wasn’t even sure why his love hadn’t yet woken as she spoke.

“Because he is only a figment of your imagination.” Her voice was laced with amusement in a way that would have annoyed Qui-Gon a good deal more if her words themselves hadn’t been so startling.

“What?” The fact she’d apparently heard his thoughts wasn’t even something he was concerned about quite yet. “What do you mean?”

A low purr rumbled in the room around him before she finally spoke again. “You are still asleep, youngling. You didn’t forget you’re on a mission, did you?”

Confusion struck through him before he realized what she meant. If he were asleep then...none of this were real. This was just another dream haunting him with what he couldn’t have. And a mission?

“Mirraq.” The word came out as a low groan as he reached up to scrub a hand over his face. 

“Very good, youngling,” She was still obviously amused with him. “But seeing this...you want this, do you not?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does!” Her voice took on a bit more seriousness. “Why refuse yourself the comfort he offers you?”

“I could not ask that of him.” Qui-Gon pinched the bridge of his nose slightly, giving up on trying to spot the sentience of the planet; he wouldn’t be able to no matter how he tried.

“Why? The comfort you could give one another-”

“I cannot let myself wish for that.” In fact, being aware of the fact that this was a dream, he forced himself to let it go, letting the colors fade out around him until he was floating in darkness once more.

“Why? You want his comfort so very much…”

“Comfort is not enough.” The words were formed with a pain that he would never voice aloud, at least not on a topic such as this, as he waded himself through the darkness towards consciousness.

“Even if it lets you stop his pain?” Her voice was softer as he neared actual wakefulness again.

And before he could question what she meant, he was blinking his eyes open to the bright orange hued light of the sun on this planet. At least her ability to talk to him so freely was limited when he was awake. And as much as he might secretly wish he could have a morning such as his dream, he was glad to see he was back in reality once more. 

Sighing heavily, he scrubbed a hand over his face as he sat up. As this mission continued, he realized that he was likely to be very happy to go back to Coruscant. Qui-Gon reached further back to push some hair back behind his ear only to realize that he’d apparently tossed and turned quite a bit that night since his fingers caught on at least one decent sized tangle. 

Oh well, at least this gave him something to do for now. Standing up from his sleeping pad, the long-haired man honestly wasn’t all that surprised to see Obi-Wan still sound asleep. The young man rarely stirred when Qui-Gon first woke unless there was some kind of threat. He made his way to the fresher first before going to dig the brush out of their small bag of supplies.

From there, he settled on the cushions once more, sitting cross legged as he reached up to untie the braid Obi-Wan had put in his hair. Brushing his hair was centering in a way not dissimilar to meditation, the rhythmic motion and focus helping clear his mind. He didn’t need to worry about thinking as he worked, just carefully brushing out each section until it was smooth as it ran between his fingers. 

Focused on what he was doing, Qui-Gon missed his Padawan waking up and wandering off to the ‘fresher. It wasn’t until he heard the younger man speak that he realized he wasn’t the only one awake any longer.

“Let me, Master.” 

Eyes flicking open, Qui-Gon gave a soft smile to his Padawan as he held out the brush in silent agreement. Perhaps he shouldn’t allow this to happen so often, but something so simply couldn’t be that dangerous. Which meant that near every time that Obi-Wan ever offered, Qui-Gon accepted the help in doing his hair. 

Obi-Wan settled behind him and started on his hair. Though this time the young man didn’t separate his hair out as he usually did so that half could be pinned up and the rest left loose. This time, he started to work a braid into the long hair in entirety. He wasn’t the most skilled at doing someone’s hair, but other the years he’d had quite a bit of practice at making sure his Master’s hair looked neat by the time he was done. Even if he did have to unbraid several inches at one point.

“Good morning,” Naiay’s voice broke the silence that had fallen between the two men as she pushed open the curtain and stepped into the rut’il.

Her cheeks paled out in a slight blush when she realized Obi-Wan was helping with Qui-Gon’s hair, but she said nothing as she walked over to the table and set down the pot she’d been carrying. Vi’ruhl set down the dishes he’d taken with him the night before and started to arrange them to be ready for them to eat. As he did so, Naiay took a bag from her shoulder and set it gently on the floor.

Obi-Wan had looked to their guests, but he’d tightened his hold on the brunet’s hair to keep Qui-Gon from turning his head and ruining the young man’s efforts at braiding. He smiled at their Mirraqui guests as his hands continued to work on his Master’s hair. 

“Good morning, Lady Naiay, did you sleep well?” He wasn’t quite sure what had lead to the hesitancy on her face, but manners were always a must as far as Obi-Wan was concerned.

She nodded, starting to realize that apparently grooming wasn’t as private a thing among the humans as it was the Mirraqui. “Yes, I did. Did you?”

Her tone told the Jedi that wasn’t really a question that was commonly asked here, but she was doing her best to roll with it. “Yes, thank you.”

Her smile brightened at Obi-Wan’s words and she turned one of the stools away from the table so she could face the two men as she sat. “Your clothes are in the bag. And we brought food.”

“Thank you,” Though Qui-Gon couldn’t turn to look at their guests yet he still spoke up. “Once Obi-Wan has finished with my hair we’d be happy to eat.”

Naiay gave a happy purr as she sat there, leaning into Vi’ruhl when he stepped up next to her and set his hand gently on her shoulder. Obi-Wan figured she was being patient from how relaxed she looked as she waited on them, but he still worked on trying to hurry up and finish with Qui-Gon’s hair.

“Tie?” He held one hand out past Qui-Gon’s shoulder for the requested item as he got the hair braided down as far as possible.

Fastening the end of the hair so it wouldn’t come undone, Obi-Wan stood and moved to join Naiay at the table. Qui-Gon tucked the brush back into their bag of supplies before he headed over to the table as well. Naiay turned her stool back to face the table as both Jedi came to sit and Vi’ruhl moved to take the empty seat. 

She reached up to open the pot of food she’d brought and her mate started to serve everyone up. Qui-Gon thought it looked not unlike a bread pudding. Though this smelled less sweet than the usual variety and there looked to be some kind of meat in the mix. If he was right, it was quite a hearty meal that would help them make it through the day at the council again.

Both of the Mirraqui gave a soft mutter that Qui-Gon had a feeling was something resembling a prayer, but he hadn’t caught the words and couldn’t try to mimic them. Though Naiay didn’t look at all disturbed as she started to eat. In fact, she gave a soft little purr and waved gently at the Jedi as if to encourage them to eat. And that seemed good enough for them for the moment. 

Obi-Wan made a tiny sound of surprise at the first bite he took and smiled almost sheepishly after he swallowed when he realized that the other three at the table were looking at him. “Sorry, it’s really good.”

Naiay’s eyes narrowed and she gave a happy little trill at his words, her tail tip twitching. “I’m glad. I enjoy it and hoped you would.”

Qui-Gon took his first bite and found that he definitely agreed with his Padawan. “It is quite good, thank you.”

She gave another trill before she started to dig into her meal again. It seemed the Jedi weren’t the only ones hungry that morning. And the meal, though a bit oddly seasoned, was quite filling. The meat wasn’t bad, though Qui-Gon wasn’t sure he wanted to bother asking what kind of animal it had come from. It was easier to eat some things if one didn’t know where they came from. After all, he’d been to a couple planets where they happily ate their pets after they died. And seeing as he hadn’t seen any kind of livestock in their limited observance of the planet, he wasn’t sure whether this was another of those planets.

Obi-Wan was the first to go for seconds, but definitely not the only one. They all ate heavily, knowing that the only refreshments that were served during the council seemed to be some basic fluids. And while Qui-Gon assumed that some of the juices had some kind of caloric count, but it didn’t make them any more filling when they were stuck standing all but still for hours on end. He hadn’t much thought about how important chairs were to him until they’d been stuck standing still for so long that his legs had felt nearly numb. Couldn’t help it any, but he’d definitely appreciate his chances to rest in the evenings while on this planet. 

And hopefully he and Obi-Wan would be able to get better at reaching the Force the longer they were here. After all, a little over a day on the planet and they were able to recover from the strain of the council meeting. Perhaps as they adjusted to being here on Mirraq they’d learn to reach out to the Force again and be able to use it to keep themselves in a decent state to complete the mission.

When they all finished eating, Vi’ruhl stacked their dishes again. Though this time he took them only as far as the kitchenette, setting them in the sink to start washing them. Naiay reached down and grabbed the bag she’d set on the floor, lifting it to set on the table instead.

“Qi’reta saw that they were cleaned for you.” She smiled at Qui-Gon as she spoke, pushing the bag towards him in the same way that she always seemed to look to him before Obi-Wan.

He might have questioned that if not for the assumption that had been made about his and his Padawan’s relationship as soon as they landed here. If only he could have blamed it on Obi-Wan calling him Master, denoting him as being of a higher standing. Alas, he figured the term had just helped their assumptions turn more concrete. 

Taking hold of the bag, he nodded slightly. “Thank you. I suppose we ought to go ahead and change-”

“Not now.” Her nose wrinkled slightly as she looked at them, ears tilting faintly downward. “You don’t have time to bathe now and clean clothing on a…” She broke off for a moment as she tried to find the words and finally gave up. “Not clean body is bad. Wastes the cleaning.”

Qui-Gon blinked at her first couple words, but found himself rather agreeing with her reasoning. “I suppose you’re right.”

She purred warmly at him, eyes narrowing slightly in what he was starting to recognize was an affectionate look.

“I take it the council will be starting again soon?”

Naiay nodded, “Very soon…” Her cheeks paled slightly as she looked down. “Slept too long, apologies.”

“Don’t worry about it, you showed up with time for us to eat, and that is plenty for now.” Qui-Gon smiled at her, hoping that his words would soothe her. “I’m sure Obi-Wan and I can handle waiting until after the council meeting to change.”

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan’s answer came almost instantaneously, though he was focused on the nervous female, a slight smile on his own face. 

Naiay smiled at them, her tail reaching out to twine around her mate’s tail as he joined them at the table again. 

“Oh, Lady Naiay, I had a request to make of you.” Obi-Wan spoke calmly, but Qui-Gon could feel his nervousness through their bond.

Her head tipped in silent question as she looked to the younger of the Jedi.

“We’re not used to the pitches that your voices hit when asking for permission to speak,” He was doing his best to be sure he came across as respectful as possible. “And I was wondering if it would be acceptable for us to wear the sound dampeners we have.”

“Sound...dampeners?” She sounded out the words slowly, her confusion obvious.

“They go in the ears and help modulate sounds to frequencies our ears can handle better. It keeps us from getting headaches, such as what Master Qui-Gon had last night.” As he spoke, the young man dug out the small bits of plasform that he’d found in their supplies the night before and held them out for Naiay to look at.

She thought about it for a moment, looking to Vi’ruhl as she considered the devices in Obi-Wan’s hand. The two of them looked at each other for a long moment, the minute expressions the two of them made not something that either Jedi could understand yet. Perhaps if they were to spend more time among the Mirraqui they would learn to read their facial expressions in the way they could humans and the other races that they dealt with most regularly. For now, they were oblivious to the conversation the two were having silently. Finally, she nodded as she looked back to Obi-Wan.

“Yes. I will explain to mother that your ears are sensitive. We would not want to do you harm.” She gave a slight smile. “We know your bodies are different from ours.”

“Thank you, Lady Naiay.” Obi-Wan gave a nod that bordered on a slight bow before he handed two of the plasform devices to Qui-Gon.

Both Jedi carefully molded the material a bit before putting them in place in their ears. The dampeners wouldn’t keep them from hearing, but would instead help modulate any sounds they had to be around to a tone more easily accepted by their ears. Had Qui-Gon realized they had them before now he would have brought them up himself. He pushed gratitude towards his Padawan for thinking of the dampeners, glad that Obi-Wan had brought them up. Not having to hear the yowls at full volume or pitch anymore would be quite welcome. 

Naiay stood up, looking towards the doorway as her ear tips quivered. “Come, we must go quick or we’ll be late.”

“Of course, please lead the way.”


	8. A Long Evening

As the Council was called to an end again, Obi-Wan had started to believe that they might actually be able to help them come to an agreement that would avoid a war between them. At the very least, they seemed to be making some progress in convincing the Morshiini that those of the Republic were not looking to destroy planets, but to offer support to one another. Whether or not that meant that the Morshiini would agree with the Mirraqui’s desire to join the Republic, he couldn’t say one way or the other. But he actually felt some hope that they might at least help those of this planet avoid a civil war if nothing else.

Turning towards the stairway leading up to their rut’il, Obi-Wan wished he could reach the Force on his own as sharp stabs of pain raced up his legs at finally moving again. However, it had only seemed to work when he and his Master were touching, like some kind of signal boost, and so he was out of luck for the time being. Following Naiay and Qui-Gon onto the stairs, he did his best to ignore the pain in his legs as he walked slowly after them.

“Gih,” Naiay had apologized quietly to them at the start of the council that morning over needing to use her kar’rym whilst among others. “Qi’reta should have left you dinner, but we will not be joining you tonight. It’s Shyra’s day of life and we are having dinner with her tonight. Apologies. Eir.”

“Please, do not apologize for that, Lady Naiay. We will be fine.” Qui-Gon’s voice was warm as he spoke, both Jedi having easily recognized their reference for a birthday.

Naiay purred at his words, obviously glad that the two humans weren’t offended by her and her ‘guard leaving them alone for the night. “Gih, we will walk you to your rut’il. Eir.”

“Thank you.” 

Obi-Wan was sure that he and his Master didn’t need the guide to get back up to their rut’il, but of course Qui-Gon had accepted it anyways. There was no real reason to argue it, so they hadn’t. At least they didn’t have to worry about entertaining their Mirraqui hosts through out dinner. Might give them more of a chance to relax and think about how best to aid them in the council the next day. 

As they walked, he realized he was somewhat aware of his Master’s emotional exhaustion. The older Jedi usually struggled some when in large groups thanks to his connection to the Living Force and how it lead to a bit of a bleed in of other’s emotions, but he’d rarely seen the man this worn out. Then again, usually Qui-Gon could build a decent shield for himself with the aid of the Force, which was beyond either of them on their own at the moment. And maintaining physical contact during the meetings didn’t really seem like the best of plans as far as Obi-Wan was concerned. After all, how much did he really trust his ability to keep his own emotions to himself if they tried it? The worry of looking to be more than just Master and Padawan to these people didn’t really seem like something to bother with since everyone seemed to assume it already. Damned linguistic misunderstandings.

“Gih, I hope you enjoy your dinner, Eir.” Naiay smiled as she stopped next to the doorway to their rut’il.

“I’m sure it will be delicious, thank you, Lady Naiay.” Qui-Gon gave a slight bow and Obi-Wan immediately followed suit. “I hope you enjoy yours as well.”

“Gih, I’m sure we will. She is a full seven cycles tonight. Eir.” The female was smiling happily, her eyes narrowed affectionately as she thought of Shyra.

“We wish her many more cycles of health.” Qui-Gon smiled at her and Obi-Wan wasn’t at all surprised by his well wishes; children always had been a weakness of sorts for his Master.

“Gih, we shall let her know. Eir.” Naiay dipped her head to the Jedi, her tail reaching out to brush against Qui-Gon’s arm carefully in a show of thanks.

“Goodnight, Lady Naiay, don’t let us keep you.” Obi-Wan spoke up, not wanting to rush her along so much as wanting to be able to go in and sit.

“Gih, thank you, good night. Eir.” She gave another quick dip of her head and then turned on her heel, nearly bouncing away.

Vi’ruhl followed after her, his steps longer but less obviously excited than hers. 

Qui-Gon finally turned and pushed aside the wooden slats that served as their door and stepped into the rut’il. Obi-Wan followed after him immediately, going to get them each a glass of water before sitting, with less grace than he would have liked, on one of the chairs at the table. There were a couple pots sitting on the table along with a couple plates and utensils. Qi’reta had set up their dinner quite nicely it looked like. However, at the moment, the Padawan was a little more focused on his chance to sit than he was on the meal.

Leaning forward on his elbows, he sipped at the water, not really surprised to see his Master sit across from him in a rather similar position. Neither of them were used to the long hours of standing still. Normally they were so much more active when they were standing since most races preferred sitting during their discussions over the long periods of standing. He supposed he ought to include that in his report when they returned to Coruscant, letting it be known that the Mirraqui and Morshiini both had legs that turned backwards like a Loth-Wolf rather than most the species they’d met and would need specially shaped chairs.

Thinking about his report, Obi-Wan remembered that he needed to be sure that the ceremony the night before the council began had to be reported as well. He didn’t plan to give much detail, but he knew it couldn’t exactly be left out either if he wanted anyone to pay attention to his note that it would be best for the next envoys, were there to be any, were not Jedi. Or at the very least that a single Jedi came rather than a Master and Padawan team again since Naiay had seemed to suggest that those on their own wouldn’t be at risk from the burning herbs. 

“We should eat.” Qui-Gon’s voice yanked Obi-Wan out of his thoughts, refocusing the young man on his Master.

Nodding, he reached out to take the lids off the pots on the table. One held some sort of meat that looked as if it might have been barbequed and the other was full of some kind of root vegetable dish. Both smelled absolutely wonderful and Obi-Wan was quick to dish them both up and dig into his meal. It tasted as good as it smelled, even if some of the herbs weren’t quite what the Jedi were used to. Not that the younger cared at the moment, happily eating two full servings before he finally felt full.

He’d eaten faster than his Master, but that tended to be common between them. Qui-Gon tended to savor the food he was eating while Obi-Wan ate more quickly, more focused on not feeling hungry anymore over caring much about the taste. Sipping at his water again, he sat there patiently as the older man ate, taking the time to just relax the muscles he’d overused standing there all day at the council. 

Which reminded him that while the information they’d received on the planet said that it was only a slight percentage above the usual gravity for the planets humans tended to inhabit, that being forced to stand still for hours was surprisingly harder on the body. It would be worth noting in his report to be sure that anyone else sent to the planet at least had warning for what it would do to their bodies. After all, it would be rude to complain and ask for special accommodations when attending council meetings and the like. He’d felt bad enough asking to use the sound dampeners but his worry for his Master had won out over that internal battle. Besides, it wouldn’t make sense to try to function through pointless migraines when they needed their wits about them if they were to help the Morshiini see the truth rather than letting them fall to their fears.

Finishing his water, he set the glass down with a soft sigh at the thought of just how long they might be stuck here. He shouldn’t be bothered by it, shouldn’t care how long it took for them to complete their mission. And yet, he felt on edge, ready to break under all the emotions he normally let go of through meditation. Obi-Wan was annoyingly impatient to get back to where he could feel and interact with the Force normally again.

“Something wrong, Obi-Wan?” 

Qui-Gon’s blue gaze focused on him and part of the Padawan wanted to say that absolutely nothing was wrong just so he didn’t have to keep meeting that intense gaze. Still, Obi-Wan knew that he didn’t have it in him to lie to his Master. 

Another soft sigh slipped past his lips before he managed to speak, his guilt leaking through in his voice and their bond. “I’m sorry, Master. I’m just uncomfortable here and look forward to going back to the Temple.”

He didn’t quite understand the return of guilt through the bond from his Master as he spoke. It wasn’t like Qui-Gon had requested this mission for them. None of this was his fault. And even if he had, until someone came to Mirraq there had been no way to know that their connection to the Force would be so limited.

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan. I don’t think either of us were prepared for this mission. But we must see it through.” The look on Qui-Gon’s face was almost apologetic and Obi-Wan hated to see such an expression directed at him.

“Yes, Master. I was not suggesting we give up on the mission.” He spoke quickly, trying to soothe the upset he’d caused in his Master. “I was just...frustrated with the situation.”

The older man gave a soft smile of understanding, his eyes still holding a hint of that apology that Obi-Wan didn’t understand. “I understand, my young Padawan.”

Nodding at his Master, the redhead stood up, taking both plates and the utensils atop them to the kitchenette. Setting them in the sink, he returned to grab the pots of food and took them in to be put away in the icebox. He washed their dishes and set them to dry before finally turning to look at his Master again; even if he’d felt the other looking at him the whole time.

“A bath will help relax you, Obi-Wan. Then we can see if we can’t reach the Force if we work together again.” Qui-Gon gestured towards the bag that Naiay had brought them that morning with their freshly washed clothes.

“Yes, Master.” It would also give him a chance to work on settling his mind as best as he could without the help of the Force.

Obi-Wan gathered a set of tunics and pants, though it took him a moment to figure out which were his and which were his Master’s with them all mixed together, and headed to the bathing chambers. While an actual bath was very tempting with as sore as his legs were, he wasn’t sure that wasting that much water or time was really worth it. And so he instead simply set the water to a skin pinking heat and set about showering, enjoying the flow of almost too hot water over his body. Not as good as a bath, but pretty damn close as far as he was concerned.

He didn’t bother messing with his Padawan braid for the moment, sure that it would be fine for the next few days at the very least. Qui-Gon’s braiding usually held longer than his own did. Or at least when he did it himself it tended to look rougher.

Once he was dry and dressed, Obi-Wan went back out into the main room. He sat none too gracefully on the cushions he’d slept on the last couple nights thanks to a cramp grabbing in his calf as he started to lower himself. Groaning, he reached down to pull at his toes, forcing the foot to flex and stretch out the muscles.

His eyes had closed as he dealt with the cramp and it meant that he’d been oblivious to his Master moving until a hand suddenly gripped at his calf, working at the muscles in an attempt to help ease the cramp. He sucked in a sharp breath as he fought to ignore the pain in his leg and automatically reached out towards the Force. Once again it seemed that being in physical contact was enough to actually let them reach the Force and the pain retreated quickly, even the minor aches fading into nothingness.

When his eyes finally opened again, Qui-Gon was looking at him with a faint smile that really counted more as a smirk as far as Obi-Wan was concerned. His head tipped a little to the side, question clear on his face as he met his Master’s gaze.

“You know you could have just asked for my help. You didn’t have to go that far to get me to help you.” The older man’s voice was laced with amusement and warmth as he released his Padawan’s leg.

“I-” Obi-Wan started to argue before he could stop himself, his cheeks flushing slightly at the fact he’d tried to argue a _joke_ of all things. Clearing his throat, he reached out and caught his Master’s hand in a loose hold, not insisting on the contact continuing. “Let me help you too, Master. I know you’re sore too.”

He felt the split second of hesitation from Qui-Gon before the older man nodded and turned his focus towards the Force and healing his own body. Obi-Wan lent his own focus to his Master’s task, glad that he could aid the older man. Even if it shouldn’t be necessary. 

“Thank you, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon gave a light squeeze to the younger man’s hand before he let it go and stood up. “My turn to wash up, I believe.”

Obi-Wan nodded silently, watching as his Master dug out a fresh change of clothes and headed into the ‘fresher. Sitting there on his own, the Padawan found his mind drifting to places it shouldn’t. As his mind recalled what his Master had looked like practically shirtless and moaning above him, he felt his cheeks flush and he forced himself up to his feet. 

A kata should help clear his mind. Or so he hoped.


	9. Lost In Dreams

Body still working through familiar patterns repetitively, Obi-Wan forced himself to move slowly. He wasn’t looking to ruin his bath, just to clear his mind when nothing else was working. Every time he thought himself centered enough to stop, his mind drifted towards his Master once more. He hadn’t had this much issue keeping his mind clear in years now and he hated every moment that his self-control failed and he thought back to things that should never have happened. 

Honestly, he’d be surprised if he didn’t go insane by the time they finally completed this mission and could return to Coruscant. Several hours in the Room of a Thousand Fountains sounded absolutely wonderful at this moment and he looked forward to the time in solitude to get his mind back to what it should be.

Part of him wished he could blame this sentient planet, but he knew that it wasn’t really her fault. She’d just encouraged him to give into desires he tried his best to pretend didn’t even exist. And really, he shouldn’t have. He knew that. But when she’d mentioned that it could hurt them if they tried to resist the effects of the herbs that had been burnt, he hadn’t had the will to say no. Had it been only him who would suffer, it would have been easy. But to see Qui-Gon hurt, again, wasn’t something he had been willing to go through.

Now if only he could stop thinking about what had happened, if only he could forget what Qui-Gon looked like as he lost himself in pleasure. Alas, he’d likely be stuck with that image in his mind long after he passed his trials and went off on his own as a Jedi Knight. 

“Obi-Wan, what’s wrong?” The voice behind him was accompanied by a wave of calm through the bond he shared with his Master and startled him into freezing for a moment.

“Master?” He turned to look at Qui-Gon, oblivious to the way he’d been sending his frustration along their bond. 

“You’re more frustrated now than before. What are you thinking about that’s so upsetting, young Padawan?” The older man was still carefully squeezing at his hair with a towel as he moved closer to take a seat on his own sleeping cushions. 

Green eyes widened slightly as Obi-Wan drew in a deep breath. Lying to Qui-Gon wasn’t easy for someone the man didn’t know, but for the redhead to try...it was a mission doomed to fail no matter how he tried. Instead, he tried to find an answer that wouldn’t give too much away and leave him wishing he could crawl in a hole and die.

“I’m sorry, Master, I’m just frustrated with being unable to reach the Force.” Not a lie, just not the entire truth either.

Qui-Gon looked at him for a long moment before nodding. “I could help you with a meditation if you think it would help.”

Obi-Wan’s heart raced at the thought and he prayed that he had shut down the link to his Master before that moment of fear passed to him. “No, Master, I’ll be alright.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind helping you.” Qui-Gon continued to absentmindedly work on drying his hair as he watched his Padawan, thankfully not seeming to see through the half-truth Obi-Wan had told. 

“Truly, Master. I’m alright. Besides, it’s like advanced training, learning to cope with stress without the Force.” He forced a smile to his face, hoping that he sounded more sure of that idea than he felt. 

Usually the only way to get Qui-Gon to drop a topic was to find something new for him to focus on, and Obi-Wan was pretty good at that. In this case, that meant moving to dig out the brush again. His Master tended to have a harder time focusing on important things while having his hair brushed and Obi-Wan prayed it worked that way again.

Turning back to the brunet, he held up the brush. “Come sit, I’ll braid it for you again, Master.”

Once again he thought he saw a split second of hesitation in his Master, but then realized it was probably his own nerves making him think he saw things that weren’t there. After all, as many times as he had done this for Qui-Gon over the years, especially when on diplomatic missions, there was no reason for the older man to have any hesitation over allowing it to happen again. 

Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan as he asked, “How do you want me?”

Obi-Wan’s breath caught, his mind flashing through things he had no right to consider and he ducked his head as he tried to will himself not to blush. His Master did not need to know the things that he was thinking right now. Stepping around the cushions that Qui-Gon sat on seemed the best way to avoid those piercing blue eyes for the moment and the redhead sank smoothly to his knees on the edge of the cushion behind his Master.

“Like this is fine.” He was quite proud of how steady his voice sounded as his heart pounded so hard he would almost think the older man could hear it.

Humming softly in acceptance, Qui-Gon gave a final squeeze to his hair with the towel and pulled it away to drop it in his lap so that Obi-Wan could have access to his now just damp hair. 

With a carefully released breath, Obi-Wan lifted his hands to start working at Qui-Gon’s hair. And only intense focus and self-control kept his hand from trembling slightly as he reached out to sweep all of his Master’s hair back from his shoulder, fingertips grazing the side of the older man’s neck. Cursing himself for the things that his mind kept coming up with, things usually ignored save for the occasional dream that he couldn’t really control anyway, the redhead started at the ends to comb out the knots. 

Trying to think of some way to keep Qui-Gon from realizing there was something definitely wrong with him, Obi-Wan fell back on old habits from his childhood. Mind falling into the silly songs that could be heard throughout the Creche every so often, he was able to work silently at working on brushing the older man’s hair. He was caught in the repetitive movement, matching it, without intending to do so, to the children’s songs he was reciting in his mind. 

For a time it worked, distracting him from his Master’s closeness almost as efficiently as meditation did usually. But he got too adjusted to the tiny knots that took almost no effort and didn’t notice the larger not in the middle of the section of hair he was working on. The brush caught and pulled before he could stop the motion.

However, it was the low growl that he just barely heard from Qui-Gon that froze him for a moment. His mind flashed to the last time he’d heard a similar sound and his cheeks pinked immediately at the flash of heat that had struck through him. The only saving grace he had was that he’d already closed down on the bond he shared with Qui-Gon so that his not quite honesty wouldn’t be so obvious.

It took him a handful of seconds to gather not only enough control to speak, but enough saliva in his suddenly dry mouth to do so. “Sorry, Master.”

“It happens.” Qui-Gon’s voice was almost strangely flat as he spoke, but Obi-Wan didn’t quite have the focus to care about that at the moment.

Obi-Wan swallowed, trying to push his mind back to the songs that he couldn’t recall now. Little over half way done with brushing out the older man’s hair, he knew this was going to be a torture that he hadn’t expected it to be. But he couldn’t exactly back out now, not without having to explain why he was stopping. And he would give just about anything to avoid having to explain this to Qui-Gon. He couldn’t imagine it going well and he would hate to lose the friendship he shared with his Master over something so insignificant.

He focused on the physical act of brushing Qui-Gon’s hair, trying to treat it the same way he had the kata earlier. Focused entirely on the motion of his hands, Obi-Wan was able to avoid any more accidental pulls on the older man’s hair by the time he finished brushing. Setting the brush to the side, he took a deep breath to help focus himself before he started on braiding. 

Without really thinking about anything beyond needing to focus himself so he didn’t say or do anything that might give away the things he kept thinking about, he made the braid more complex than either of them usually bothered with. Still, he used the complexity to keep his mind clear for the time being so that he could finish what he’d started. 

As the braid formed under his hands, he felt that there was something familiar about it, but he couldn’t quite place it. There was some kind of comfort starting to fill him as he worked with Qui-Gon’s hair, even if he didn’t understand it. At least it was better than the anxiety and desire that had filled him previously. 

It wasn’t until he was nearly finished with the braid that his mind placed where he knew this particular style from and he paused for a moment, eyes widening. Obi-Wan hadn’t bothered to spend time thinking about the family that had surrendered him to the Jedi Order in years now. And yet, he suddenly remembered sitting next to his father as the man hummed and worked a nearly identical braid into his mother’s hair. Blinking a couple times, trying to understand why his mind had come up with this particular style, he frowned slightly.

“Tie?” His voice was slightly tight and he could feel Qui-Gon reaching out to him through their bond, trying to check on him.

Opening the bond, trusting in where his emotions were at the moment, he was sure that Qui-Gon would have questions for him in a moment. But this was a topic he could at least discuss. Taking the tie the brunet held up for him, he tied off the end quickly, making sure it was plenty tight so that the braid wouldn’t loosen by morning.

Standing up, he stepped back over to his own sleeping platform and sat down, waiting to see if the older man was going to say anything. Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon’s gaze on him, but he it took him a few moments to be willing to meet his Master’s gaze. When he did, he could see the way the other searched for...something in his eyes before he finally gave a tiny nod and moved to lay flat. Had he actually avoided questions about what had been bothering him?

Twisting to lay down as well, Obi-Wan settled on his side facing away from his Master, instead staring at the wall. This time his mind was still too active for him to immediately close his eyes against the lights of the room and as they both stilled, the lights dimmed themselves. Well, that explained why he hadn’t found a light switch they’d first gotten to their rut’il. Apparently they had sensors that judged when the lights were needed and what too dark was. It also explained why the room had never seemed too light or too dark even as the sunlight from outside had faded. 

Maybe he could talk to Naiay about how they worked. And perhaps the Temple would be interested in them as well. He still remembered how annoyed Master Jaydev had been with how hard it was to adjust the lights for the younglings in the Creche so that those who were afraid of the dark weren’t upset and those who couldn’t sleep with the full lights on didn’t complain. A mental note was made as the lights faded to almost pure darkness around them so that he could try to bring it up the next day.

Laying there in the almost dark, he couldn’t help the way his awareness shifted to his Master again. At least this time his mind wasn’t trying to drift into places he wouldn’t allow. Instead, it was just the calm that came with Qui-Gon’s steadying breaths. He worked on matching their breathing, letting it slowly lull him towards sleep as it did most nights when they were away from the Temple. It was perhaps the only thing he really favored about missions over being home on Coruscant. 

Slowly his body relaxed as did his mind and he slipped off into the realm of sleep. Dreams were common for him, but most were forgotten soon after waking. Vibrant dreams weren’t terribly common for him, usually only basic feelings from the dreams lingering as he woke. And even though he recognized the dream as it formed within his mind, he didn’t have the self-control to try to break it.

Instead, he smiled as he looked down into the familiar deep blue eyes of his Master.

Trailing his fingers lightly up Qui-Gon’s cheek, he loved the way the older man’s head tipped into his hand, almost as if trying to get more of his touch. He let his hand flatten against his Master’s cheek, thumb sliding lightly along the lower edge of his cheekbone. The older man was beautiful normally, but at this moment he was quite nearly breathtaking and Obi-Wan knew he would happily let Qui-Gon have whatever he wanted.

Qui-Gon nuzzled faintly at his hand, the roughness of his beard shifting against Obi-Wan’s palm. A kiss was pressed against the inside of his wrist, drawing a faint shiver from the redhead as he stood there. There was a playful glint in those sapphire eyes as the older man leaned in closer to him, hot breath teasing through the leggings Obi-Wan still wore.

Breath hitching, he let his hand slide further back, into that silken hair that he so loved to play with. He was being careful, floating and seeing what would happen now that his Master was on his knees before him. But when Qui-Gon reached up to tug his leggings down, he sucked in a sharp breath and his fingers curled, catching at the long hair and tugging at the strands slightly.

He had dreamed of sounds that Qui-Gon might make in the past, his infatuation with the older man seeing to that, but the growl that rumbled in the older man’s throat this time was a perfect replica of the one he’d given during the stupid ceremony they’d been forced to take part in. Not that Obi-Wan could truly hate that it had happened since just that once he’d gotten to actually feel Qui-Gon’s hands on him, to hear what pleasure did to him. 

And now, that knowledge was leaking into his dreams.

Not that he at all minded the sound of that growl, his length twitching slightly as it was fully revealed to Qui-Gon. There was a tease of a pink tongue sliding over the older man’s lips when his gaze dropped form Obi-Wan’s face down, instead, to his cock. The lust was nearly palpable, Obi-Wan all but certain that he could feel it coming from his Master as well as the man leaned in again.

A simple brush of lips to the tip of his length tore a softly gasped moan from the redhead and his fingers tightened in Qui-Gon’s hair again, earning him another low growl in return. Breath coming in soft pants now, Obi-Wan found himself unable to tear his gaze away from his kneeling Master. Not that it was an easy task when not waiting to see what pleasures would be given to him.

Large hands drug gently up the outside of his thighs and up to grip his hips firmly before those slightly chapped lips parted to grant him entrance to that wet heat. Green eyes fell shut as he moaned, long and higher than he would have liked, when Qui-Gon finally sank onto his cock. Both hands sank into the dark locks his Master sported, not trying to guide him per se, but holding on for he knew nothing else to do as pleasure flooded him.

Qui-Gon’s tongue worked along the underside of his length, tracing the shape with such focus it was as if he were trying to memorize it. His grip on Obi-Wan’s hips kept the younger man from being able to push forward into his mouth, which was likely good as the Padawan wasn’t certain he had that self-control himself. Though it wasn’t as if he were left wanting. No, the older man started to bob his head slowly, tongue playing against sensitive flesh and a careful suction leaving the redhead nearly trembling in his hold.

His fingers tightened in Qui-Gon’s hair without him meaning to, but the growl that vibrated up through his cock was definitely enjoyable all the same. Lips parted, he panted as his Master continued to work his length, soft moans falling from him as he let the pleasure flood his senses. Obi-Wan could feel himself pushing closer to his end, heat pooling in him as he surrendered himself fully to his Master’s touch.

Qui-Gon slowly started to speed up, the suction growing stronger as he did. Obi-Wan could feel the tension in himself, could tell he wouldn’t last much longer under the older man’s ministrations. But then, he had no reason to try to either. Not in this dreamscape that he would pretend never existed in his waking hours.

Time held no meaning and he wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there being pleasured by his Master, but finally he gave into it all. Jaw tight, a moan ripped its way from his throat as he shuddered and spilled himself into Qui-Gon’s mouth, fingers curling tight in that silken hair. Though, after a few moments, he was able to loosen his hold and managed to look down at the older man. A small burst of want shot through him, though not enough to do anything about, as he watched Qui-Gon draw back and lick his lips, smug content clear on his features as he looked up to meet the younger’s gaze.

Perhaps he would have sought to return the favor, but he was jerked from his dreams when he shifted against the cushions he was laying on and smeared the cooling mess against his skin. He hadn’t quite been able to keep himself from gasping in surprise, but he prayed his Master hadn’t heard it. Carefully standing up, he hated himself for not being able to turn away from that dream until it was too late. Silently berating himself, he snagged the bag of clean clothes from near the table and slipped into the bathroom.

At least cleaning himself, and his leggings, shouldn’t take too terribly long.


	10. An Unexpected Break

The sound of his Padawan moving about had pulled Qui-Gon from his sleep, to his chagrin. Not that he would make mention of such a fact. No, his Padawan had no need to know about the dreams that plagued him every so often. And he could only expect it would happen more and more now that he had memories to draw from as well as imagination. 

Sitting up slowly, he tugged at his tunics slightly, making sure that the lingering effects of his dream would be hidden when Obi-Wan returned to the main room. Though it was his tongue flicking over his lips to moisten them, and the sudden realization that it was almost as if he could taste Obi-Wan again, that had him fighting down a wave of embarrassment. His dreams had been bad enough before, now to have memories haunt him even after he woke...this was a new kind of torture.

Yawning, he realized his mind was playing more tricks on him and that he really must distract himself as his mind had thought to suggest to him that his jaw should be sore, as if there had been more to it than just a dream. Shaking his head slightly, he cleared his throat and made himself focus instead upon the upcoming council meeting. It was his only hope if he planned to be able to face his Padawan when the young man came back from the ‘fresher.

By the time that Obi-Wan finally emerged from the ‘fresher, Qui-Gon had already managed to quell his urges for the time being and was up starting breakfast for them. Thankfully, a glass of juice from the icebox had been enough to clear his taste buds leaving him able to think about his Padawan without his mind slipping back to the dream he’d been woken from. 

“You alright, Obi-Wan?” 

“Yes, Master.” The young man’s voice was tight and his cheeks pinked slightly as he answered.

Oh, so he hadn’t been sick. At least he didn’t need to worry too much about his Padawan. Obi-Wan tended to try to meditate his way out of lustful thoughts, something Qui-Gon had never been good at really, and so being on this planet where he couldn’t release anything to the Force it wasn’t too surprising that the young man had been forced to deal with those urges instead.

Nodding to the redhead, he turned his attention back to the meal he’d been prepping. Some of the meat from the night before and a few of the fruits that had been stocked for them seemed like it would make a decent breakfast. And should do alright at keeping them from being too hungry by the time the council ended for the night.

As much as he missed tea, Qui-Gon hadn’t been willing to risk any of the herbal mixes that he’d found in the cupboards. One round with unexpected side effects due to herbs on a mission was more than enough for him. No point in tempting fate even more.

The gentle wave of amusement that brushed at his consciousness from the now rather easily recognized planetary consciousness was a little bit unexpected though. Apparently she found his decisions to be amusing...something he couldn’t say he really agreed with. But at least she wasn’t pushing at him trying to invade his mind again that morning. She actually seemed to be willing to leave him more or less alone at the moment and he was happy for that respite.

Finished slicing the last of the fruit he’d grabbed, Qui-Gon plated their meal up and dug out an extra glass so that his Padawan could have a glass of juice as well. Balancing the plates in one hand and the glasses in the other, he made his way over to the table and set a place for each of them before he took a seat.

“Come eat, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon spoke gently before taking a sip of his juice.

He still wasn’t sure what kind of fruit the juice came from, but it was quite appetizing at the very least. It was sweet, but not overpoweringly so and it was a soft enough flavor to be enjoyable. Not to mention that it paired nicely with the foods he’d prepared for their breakfast.

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan came to join him at the table, focused almost completely on eating.

The silence that descended around the two of them as they ate wasn’t as comfortable as most the ones they shared tended to be. But Qui-Gon wasn’t sure he wanted to question the tension of the room either. After all, he was responsible for at least part of it as he did his best to pretend that nothing had changed between him and his Padawan thank to that ceremony. Even if he couldn’t actually claim that something hadn’t changed. He could feel Obi-Wan’s uncertainty at times and felt every time his Padawan closed down on his end of the bond. Which had happened quite a bit more in the last few days since they landed on Mirraq than it had in the months before.

“Good morning!” Naiay’s chipper voice announced her arrival a moment before she opened up the curtain in the doorway, a bright smile on her voice.

“Good morning, Lady Naiay,” Qui-Gon offered her a polite smile of his own. “We didn’t expect you so early or I would have made you breakfast as well.”

She shook her head, but it was her mate that answered. “We already ate.”

Nodding, Qui-Gon couldn’t deny that he felt a little bit unsure about why they had shown up so early. It was, by his best guess, almost an hour earlier than she’d come to get him the last couple of days for the council.

Naiay moved forward to sit upon one of the empty seats at the table, looking an odd mix of excited and nervous that confused the Jedi. “Can I ask a favor of you?”

“I do not know if we will be able to do your favor, but you may ask it.” Qui-Gon had never been one to tell someone not to ask; after all, you’d never learn if you never asked.

She nodded her acceptance of his words. “I told Shyra you thought of her and she wants to meet you, to thank you herself…”

“We would be happy to meet her when we have the time.” Qui-Gon could see Obi-Wan out of the corner of his eye and that smile really wasn’t too surprising. The young man knew how easily he could be swayed into doing most things if it was to make a child happy.

The purple furred female grinned so widely her double fangs showed again at his words. “Today?”

“I’m not sure we have the time before the council…” Qui-Gon’s tone was apologetic as he spoke before sipping at his juice again.

“Oh! I forgot to say,” Her cheeks paled slightly and her grin softened, but she still looked excited. “The council meetings are on hold. Naava Sil’kir is sick....filla’jai believes she’s with kits.”

Qui-Gon blinked a couple times in surprise but still found himself smiling at her words, “Little ones are a blessing.”

Both the Mirraqui gave a purr at his words, nodding as their tails twined together. Vi’ruhl smiled a bit at the two Jedi, happy that they were as happy for Sil’kir as the rest of the Mirraqui.

“It shows Mirraq smiles on our council, she blesses our talks with life.” Naiay spoke happily, and even if the Jedi didn’t quite agree with her words in full, there was absolutely no reason to argue. “But today, Sil’kir needs to rest, so we have a day to ourselves. And Shyra would really like to meet you.”

Finishing off his juice, Qui-Gon nodded at her and glance at his Padawan who had a faintly amused smile on his face before he looked back to Naiay. “We’d be happy to.”

She purred happily at that and leaned forward. “She’s at the K’aer’i with the other Qito, we’d be happy to take you when you are ready.”

Qui-Gon smiled warmly at her, looking forward to the way the day was shaping up. It was much the same happiness that filled him when he was able to take a bit of time at the Temple and could squeeze in a few hours of helping at the Creche. Thankfully, Obi-Wan accepted it with just a slight bit of exasperation at how easily his Master was tamed by younglings. 

Looking to his Padawan, Qui-Gon wasn’t too surprised by that fond amusement on the young man’s face. At the very least he was choosing to go along with it for now rather than sassing the older man as he usually did. But then, that might have more to do with their guests than it had to do with Obi-Wan really having nothing to say about the way Qui-Gon so obviously looked forward to going to meet the younglings of this planet.

With a soft sigh, the redhead stood and took both of their dishes in hand and headed to the kitchenette. “Let me do our dishes and we’ll be able to go, Master.”

Qui-Gon smiled at his Padawan’s words, looking forward to the way this day seemed to be shaping up. At least he should be able to get away with not standing still for several hours and would have something to distract himself from not only this planet’s sentience, but also a distraction from his own thoughts. Besides, he looked forward to seeing how the younglings here were raised. It might give him some extra insight to those at the council and how they interacted with one another. 

Naiay seemed to be doing her best to stay calm, but the tremble in her ears and the way her tail tip twitched against Vi’ruhl’s gave away her anxiousness. Qui-Gon wasn’t sure if it was a chance to spend time with Shyra again, or perhaps just looking forward to being around the younglings. Either way he could understand. If she were close enough to Shyra to have gone to have dinner with the young one for her day of life, then she was likely quite attached. So he really had no way to be certain and didn’t see it was quite an appropriate question to ask. 

The fond smile still played over Obi-Wan’s face as he turned back to those at the table, finishing drying his hands and tossing the towel to sit next to the dishes. “Alright, whenever you are ready.”

A purr slipped from Naiay as she stood quickly, her tail finally pulling away from her mate’s as she used it to help balance. “Shall we go then?”

Qui-Gon was much more controlled about how quickly he stood, but his excitement was still rather obvious. And he was sure his Padawan was plenty aware of how much he was looking forward to this. The four of them headed out of the rut’il again, but this time instead of heading down towards the council platforms down below, they turned and headed down the walkways that went down the outer side of the grove of trees. The Jedi could see a few hovercraft waiting down close to the ground and in a way, Qui-Gon was glad. Not because walking would be horrible, but because even after managing to Force heal himself and Obi-Wan the night before, he really wasn’t that excited about over stressing his legs again. A day’s break would be quite welcome.

Naiay led them down to one of the hovercraft, hopping up to sit on the short bench that faced the long bench in the back, allowing her to sit next to the pilot’s seat. As Qui-Gon rather suspected, Vi’ruhl stepped up to take control of the vessel. Which left the wider bench in the back for the two Jedi to sit. In a way, Qui-Gon appreciated it as he wasn’t all that fond of travelling backwards himself; it was always distorting.

At least not having an extra Mirraquian joining them should, hopefully, mean that Naiay wouldn’t have to use her Kar’rym for at least a little bit longer. He knew he’d have to put up with it during their visit with the younglings, though he hoped that the young ones wouldn’t be forced to use them, but a few more moments to avoid it would be welcome. Honestly though, he was getting as bad as his Padawan about being annoyed by the break in their ability to reach the Force regularly.

Obi-Wan had crawled up into the hovercraft to sit next to Qui-Gon, but most of his interest laid on the scenery around them instead of any of the passengers, just as it had on their way from the landing platform. Not that he could much blame his Padawan, the colors of this world were rather vibrant compared to most of the planets they’d been to in a long time. And while they were not allowed to covet, they were allowed to enjoy the beauty around them.

Qui-Gon was just a bit more adjusted to the differences in planets than the younger Jedi. And so he kept most of his focus upon Naiay as Vi’ruhl started to guide the hovercraft along between the tall trees. Leaning forward in an attempt to be sure his voice would actually reach the Ambassador, he 

“So the K’aer’i,” He was decently confident over his pronunciation of the word. “Is that where the young ones go to learn?”

Naiay nodded with a wide grin, leaning towards the Jedi slightly to help keep the wind around them from stealing her words as she answered. “Yes, all those close in...years you call them I believe? They all go to learn what they will need for a good life.”

He nodded in calm understanding of her words. It sounded like it might be similar to the schools on some of the core planets. Not that he was certain yet without actually seeing it in person. Nor did it really matter.

“May I ask how many there should be at the K’aer’i?”

Naiay thought for a few moments before answering Qui-Gon’s query. “Five ra’hi, and one jada. Xaq passed his last tests and was assigned as Yi’keh to Shyra. She is the youngest with Yi’keh.”

“Then they are usually assigned later than seven?” Learning of a new culture was always interesting to Qui-Gon, but even more so when there was so little to be found about this planet in texts.

“Yes, most jada are closer to their maturity when they can be trusted with...safety. Xaq is the youngest in many cycles.” Naiay sounded proud of him as she spoke, her tail tip twitching slightly. “He’s not even a full ten cycles yet, but he can hold his own and keep Shyra safe.”

“He sounds like he’ll grow into a strong Jada.” He made sure to use their term for males, not wanting to confuse her.

Naiay’s grin and the faint tipping of her head told Qui-Gon she was purring, or at least he assumed she was since she’d only done that before whilst doing so. “Yes, he is already strong. Can hold his own for a time with the Kiq’jada.” She seemed to catch the look of confusion on the Jedi’s face as she winced a little and searched for a better word. “Jada of more cycles than him?”

Qui-Gon gave a slow nod realizing she’d simply meant older males. “You seem proud of him.”

Her cheeks paled slightly and she glanced at Vi’ruhl before giving a slow nod. “I shouldn’t be, but I am. He is still my cousin.”

That phrasing confused Qui-Gon for a moment, curious why she shouldn’t be proud of her younger cousin. “Is it not acceptable to be proud of the jada? Even if they’re family?”

Gold-green eyes widened slightly at his words, her confusion likely would have been easy to feel even if not for his disconnect to the Force. “Jada may be given our pride, but Xaq is…” She trailed off for a moment as she worked on translating what she wished to tell him. “His mother was mounted by a Morshiini...against her say. He is half with no honor.”

This time it was Qui-Gon’s eyes that widened at the knowledge, though it was a subtle motion as he tried not to visibly react. “I see.”

He could feel the flash of anger from his Padawan that Obi-Wan always felt when hearing of such transgressions against others. At least it told him Obi-Wan had been paying attention to their conversation even if he’d been looking as if he were focused only on the scenery they were passing. 

Naiay give a slow, somewhat tense nod, her eyes studying his face as if trying to gauge his reaction and he realized that perhaps he should have let more show through. As a Jedi he was trained not to allow his personal opinions to matter whilst on missions, but perhaps over this he should have. 

“In the Republic, that is seen as a horrific crime, and while we do not hold it against the kit, we would have seen the father punished.” His words seemed to help her relax some; his understanding of the hurt inflicted upon, he assumed, her aunt.

She nodded, her smile disappearing for a moment before she decided to redirect their conversation. “Shyra is very excited to meet you.”

Qui-Gon offered Naiay a warm smile of his own at her words. “The feeling is mutual. We look forward to meeting the next generation.”

Once again the woman gave a slight tip of her jaw that he recognized as a purr, but she didn’t speak again, instead looking over her shoulder towards the village their hovercraft was approaching. The landing platform had been off in another direction, his internal compass didn’t seem to work much better than any other use of the Force, and this was their first time actually seeing the way their villages were put together. Both men sat up straight, eyes taking in all they could, seeing the mix of live plants and bits of rocks and metal looking supports that formed the buildings. It was much like the rut’il they’d been put up in, as if these people only worked to enhance the natural resources rather than tearing them up and repurposing them the way many races throughout the galaxy did.

The K’aer’i wasn’t all that far into the village, which disappointed Qui-Gon slightly as he would have loved to see more of the way they balanced themselves with nature. Perhaps he could convince Naiay to take them for a walk through of the village at a later date. It wouldn’t do to change their plans when they had already agreed to go visit the little ones. Especially when Naiay had been so pleased that they had shown an interest in meeting the children.

Vi’ruhl slowed the hovercraft to a stop near a small grass covered field with a few children sitting about on blankets and nibbling on some kind of snack. Before any of them had even managed to stand up, let alone actually leave the speeder, a petite lavender furred girl jumped to her feet with a yowl and raced towards them. The rest of the group was on her heels, as was a young male that Qui-Gon hadn’t noticed before he joined the group, having apparently been sitting up in one of the trees.

Naiay purred as she stepped down from the speeder, her tail reaching out to wrap around the girl’s as she knelt down to rub her cheek to the child’s. “Shyra, I brought our friend.” 

All of the children seemed surprised by the Jedi, but Qui-Gon couldn’t say that was terribly unexpected since they were the first outlanders to visit Mirraq in generations. The girls all looked interested, seeming to understand they had a chance to learn. However, the male, Xaq, the Jedi assumed, was standing at the back of the group, his prehensile tail lifted behind him and his teeth bared in a snarl as he stood there watching over all the girls for the moment. Though the look of aggression faded to slight mistrust when Vi’ruhl gave a low rumbling growl and laid his tail lightly against Qui-Gon’s arm as the Jedi stepped down from the speeder.

The lavender furred girl pulled away from her hug with Naiay and turned to the Jedi. She stepped over to the speeder just in time to watch as Obi-Wan slipped stepping down and scraped the back of his calf over the step. A sharp curse passed his lips, and before Qui-Gon could offer a rebuke, Shyra had instead.

“That’s a bad word!” She stared up at Obi-Wan intently, her tail waving calmly behind her.

“I- uh...yes, it is. Sorry.” Obi-Wan’s stuttered response to her amused Qui-Gon greatly.

“That’s why we don’t normally use such words. Obi-Wan was surprised by his fall and spoke without thinking.” He usually didn’t try to speak for his Padawan, but at the moment it seemed fitting since Obi-Wan was never totally sure how to handle children.

Shyra looked at both men and gave a slow nod before looking up at Obi-Wan, lifting her hands and flicking them open then closed repeatedly. “A’ta! A’ta!”

They didn’t tend to be on missions where interactions with children were expected of them, but Qui-Gon still hadn’t expected the young man to look so confused by her request. Even though it wasn’t in Basic, it was still rather obvious he thought. Then again, those in the Creche out grew the expectation that they would be picked up by quite a bit younger than Shyra currently was. But if she were accustomed to it, as she looked to be, then it didn’t hurt to do as requested.

Stepping in closer to the young girl, he slipped his hands under her arms and picked her up. She settled in against his chest easily, a little purr falling from her at the fact she’d gotten picked up.

“I am assuming you are Shyra.” He smiled warmly at her happy nod, “I am Qui-Gon. Naiay said you’d invited us to come say hi.”

She purred again in agreement, but the sudden touch of her hands to his face, quite nearly a slap to each cheek, had been much less expected. 

“Fur!” Her happy voice confused him for a moment before he realized she was speaking of his beard and he gave a nod, tilting his head to rub his beard against one of her palms, unaware of the paint being smeared into his beard, getting a happy giggle out of her. “Nai-nai! It’s all scratchy!”

Naiay’s cheeks paled slightly in embarrassment at Shyra’s words, obviously unsure how the child’s words would be taken. “Be gentle, Az’hul, they bruise easier than us.”

Shyra gave a solemn nod and the press of her palms against Qui-Gon’s cheeks gentled even as she curled her tail around his arm. From watching the Mirraqui Ambassador and her mate over the last few days, he assumed it was just a comfort thing for their kind. She turned to look at Obi-Wan, though she continued to pet his beard with one hand.

“His face is naked.”

Qui-Gon couldn’t quite stop the slight chuckle he gave at the way she chose to describe his Padawan, who looked as if he were unsure whether to be insulted or simply confused. “Yes, he’s still a Padawan Learner and as such, must keep his hair short.”

It was a better excuse than to reveal that the last time Obi-Wan had tried to let it grow out it’d still been patchy and uneven. No point in letting others in on the things that left his Padawan uncomfortable.

Shyra mouthed the word ‘learner’ before she brightened up. “Learner, like us.” She spoke as her tail flicked out to wave at the other children gathered around them. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon was somewhat surprised that the child had such a good grasp on Basic for as young as she was. Bouncing her slightly to get her to focus on him again, he made sure to meet her eye. “Your Basic is very good, Shyra.”

She purred and leaned in to rub her cheek against his cheek, and he would have been surprised if not for a part of him remembering that Naiay had mentioned she could only drop her kar’rym around family. So her younger sister assuming that meant they were family as she’d not used the words of respect around them made a sense of a sort. 

“Practiced with Nai-Nai. Qi wasn’t good at it. Said it’s too…” She broke off, frowning slightly for a moment. “Rough.”

“Well, you’re doing quite good at it.” Glancing around at the other children standing around, and how unsure they all looked, he turned to Naiay. “Shall we all go sit again? They can finish their snack and then we can get to know each other?”

Naiay smiled at him, giving a soft purr as she nodded and headed towards the gathering of blankets on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K'aer'i (K-air-ee) - Primary School  
> Ra'hi (Raw-he) - female  
> Kiq'jada (Kee-ck-shah-dah) - Older Male  
> A'ta (Aw-taw) - Up


	11. An Afternoon at the K’aer’i

Obi-Wan barely had to deal with the Crechelings normally and he really didn’t know what to do with all these children. Especially when they seemed more used to being given affection than what was offered within the Order. And when he had no clue whether they all understood Basic or just Naiay’s little sister. Still, he followed after his Master when the other three adults headed into the center of the grassy field to sit. His leg stung as he walked, but he had had much worse on other missions and so he worked to push it out of his mind as best as he could when the Force was still beyond his reach.

He had planned to take a seat next to his Master, but a little hand grabbed his and tugged at him. Looking down at the pink furred youngling, he took a moment to check with Qui-Gon who nodded encouragingly at him and gave in, following her to another of the blankets. She sat down easily, her body weight pulling at him as she hadn’t let go of his hand, meaning that he wasn’t given an option in taking a seat next to her. 

Looking around the small group of younglings, Obi-Wan couldn’t say he was terribly surprised by the fact most of them had gravitated towards Qui-Gon already. Children did tend to recognize the safety that his Master would provide and trusted in that way that only those who’d never been hurt by one they trusted could. And it broke his heart that the only one who didn’t show that open trust was the young male, who was instead standing just short of a meter behind Vi’ruhl, keeping watch over everyone.

Obi-Wan flinched slightly when something was suddenly shoved in his face and it took him a moment to realize the pink furred youngling who’d made him sit next to her was trying to share her snack. Leaning back slightly, he took the piece of food she’d pushed up against his mouth. Giving her a slight smile, he looked over the fruit, finally recognizing it as one of the fruits he’d made his and Qui-Gon’s first breakfast out of and didn’t see it hurting him to eat it. At least he couldn’t identify any teeth marks in it so she hadn’t tried to feed him after herself which was appreciated.

“Thank you.” He spoke gently before popping the piece of fresh fruit in his mouth to eat it.

She nodded at him, but her blue green eyes still stared at him intensely. Not that he could blame her terribly much since he and his Master looked quite drastically different from the males she was used to seeing. Though he found that he couldn’t quite manage to look away from those vibrant eyes once he’d caught her gaze in his own. She looked as if she had something she wanted to say, but hadn’t yet made up her mind as to if she would or not.

Just as he worried his patience wouldn’t outlast her, she reached out to take his hand in one of hers again, her expression solemn as she looked up at him. “You look funny.”

Her flat words were followed by a nearly sage-like nod and it threw him for a loop for a moment, his brows drawing together at how unexpected her words were. It took him a few moments to figure out how to answer, and the hint of amusement he felt from Qui-Gon through their bond didn’t help much.

“I suppose I do to you.” Obi-Wan wasn’t exactly sure what else to say to her.

Her head tipped, ears twitching slightly upwards as if in surprise. “Not to you?”

“No, actually I’m quite used to how I look.” The sassy words slipped from him before he could stop them. Well, at least she didn’t look too bothered by his words, giving him a chance to explain a little bit to her. “I look pretty normal where I’m from.”

That had a frown forming on her lips, and her ears pulling in closer against her skull as she tried to understand. “From….Morshiin?”

Obi-Wan cursed himself silently at her question, realizing why she’d been so confused by what he’d said. “No, Master Qui-Gon and I,” He gestured faintly towards the older man who still had a very content Shyra curled up in his lap. “Are from a place much further away than Morshiin. We’re-”

“Filla’jai says Morshiin is furthest we can travel.” The little one interrupted him, her voice sharp with disapproval from what she seemed to perceive as a lie.

“We aren’t from Mirraq, Little one-”

“K’tria.”

“What?”

“I is K’tria.” 

“Oh. Sorry, K’tria,” He had to remember where he’d been before she interrupted him. “As I was saying, he and I aren’t from Mirraq. We come from among the lights in the sky you see at night.”

She gasped and suddenly pushed herself closer to him, her face only a short distance from hers as she finally started to actually study his individual features. “You are from l’ow’eet!” Her voice was excited, and while she didn’t reach up to grab his face the way Shyra had Qui-Gon’s face, K’tria’s tail waved excitedly behind her as she studied his face. “Are they all like you?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t say he understood the exact definition of the Mirraquian word she’d used, but he at least understood the gist. Or thought he did. “There are many different races in the galaxy, and no, we don’t all look alike. Some are as different as you and I, and others are more similar to one another. Like how you are similar in looks to the Morshiini.”

She was silent as she listened to him, but began to nod her understanding. When he was finally done speaking, she smiled at him in her excitement.

“Filla’jai says that one day I might be allowed to go out to the l’ow’eet...if the Morshiini don’t attack.” Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper at the last few words, the excitement draining from her tone as she looked away from Obi-Wan.

“That is why my Master and I are here, K’tria.” Her surprised, yet hopeful, look had him giving a slight smile, hoping to make her feel better. “We are here to help with the talks with the Morshiini, we are trained in helping to avoid fights.”

K’tria purred at his words, finally sitting back from him again and picked up her cup of juice. “Thank you...I don’t want to be attacked.”

“We will do everything we can to make sure it doesn’t come to that, K’tria.” He gently squeezed the small hand that still had a hold of his own. 

She gave another soft purr, letting go of his hand and grabbing another piece of fruit to offer to him. He took it with a warm smile for her and popped it into his mouth as he looked back over at his Master. The older Jedi was sitting cross legged much like Obi-Wan was, but he not only had Shyra curled up happily in his lap, but another little one to each side of him, leaning into him. The last of the girls was curled up on her side with her head on Naiay’s lap as they all listened to Qui-Gon try to tell them the same story Obi-Wan had told Naiay a couple nights earlier.

Honestly, as gifted as he was with children, Qui-Gon had never been skilled at telling stories. Sure, he got all the information and words within the tales, but his voice was as steady and calm as it was when he gave reports to the council. He wasn’t good at giving voices to the different characters, or at building up the emotions and interest in the stories. 

Chuckling slightly, Obi-Wan looked back to K’tria, his voice a low almost conspiratorial whisper. “C’mon, let’s go sit closer. I tell these stories _much_ better…”

The young girl purred in amusement and nodded. She grabbed her plate of food and held it out to Obi-Wan, who took it easily as he stood up. K’tria grabbed the corner of the blanket as she stood and drug it along to set next to the one that Qui-Gon and the other littles were sitting on. She folded easily back down on the blanket and held out her empty hand for the plate that Obi-Wan was holding. He passed the plate back to her as he sank down to sit cross legged facing the older Jedi.

“Master?” He waited for the blue eyes to lift to him, fighting back a smirk even if he was sure that Qui-Gon was aware of his amusement at the horrible story telling. “Shall I take over?”

A lesser man may have been offended, but Qui-Gon just chuckled and gave a nod. “Please do.”

Naiay gave a little purr of amusement at the Jedi’s words, understanding why Obi-Wan was offering. She shifted a little bit to lean against Vi’ruhl and reached up with her tail to tug at Xaq’s ankle, trying to encourage the young male closer. And he did shuffle closer, but still was clearly on guard, not completely willing to trust the Jedi even if Vi’ruhl seemed to. He couldn’t afford any mistakes.

Not that either of the Jedi were bothered by his watchfulness. He was simply doing his job and neither of them had any reason to speak against such a thing. They were no threat, but that didn’t mean he should let his guard down and trust them if they were to claim that either.

Obi-Wan took up the story of Goldilocks and the Three Wookies where he’d interrupted Qui-Gon, giving each of the characters a voice of their own as he went. And though his Shyriiwook wasn’t the best, the little ones seemed to enjoy his attempts at it all the same, even if he had to translate after the fact for he was fairly certain that wasn’t a language that had been sent to Mirraq yet. Normally the Republic only bothered with Basic until the decision to join the Republic or not had been made.

Most of the younglings were paying attention to his storytelling, but Shyra seemed to be a little more easily distracted. She crawled out of Qui-Gon’s lap, the older Jedi smiling as she wandered off across the grass. Both Jedi watched her, Qui-Gon twisting enough to still see her as she moved part way behind him. Thankfully, Obi-Wan wasn’t forced to move about to keep an eye on her, able to keep telling the story while still helping watch the youngling.

She gathered a large handful of flowers from out of the grass and then finally stood up to walk back over. Though she stopped next to Xaq for a moment, stretching up to rub her cheek against her bodyguard’s for a moment, giving a little calming purr. Having been watching Shyra, Obi-Wan met the deep purple eyes of the young man and he gave a slight smile, as much as was possible while working on wrapping up the tale he was telling. It seemed to have been the right move though, as Xaq seemed to relax slightly. To the point that he sank down to kneel where he’d been standing as Shyra turned back to Qui-Gon again.

Obi-Wan stumbled over his words, fighting not to laugh when the lavender furred girl stepped around in front of Qui-Gon and dropped into his lap again. Which wouldn’t have been so funny, if not for the way his Master’s back stiffened sharply and he sucked in a sharp breath. That was an expression that most human males, at the very least, could recognize. And really he shouldn’t want to laugh at Qui-Gon over being hurt, but the way his Master was trying to not show that the little one had apparently landed on or against very sensitive parts.

Qui-Gon reached up to help Shyra move a bit to rest more on his thigh than where she’d first landed. And though Obi-Wan was certain he was still hurting, he offered the youngling a tight smile and pet her hair. She smiled up at him and purred before muttering softly in Mirraqui. Which seemed to be directed at one of the other girls. At the very least, one of the other girls gave a purr and bounced up and took off towards the building that Obi-Wan assumed was the schoolhouse. 

Naiay spoke up, a few words in Mirraqui directed at her sister who looked sad for a moment. Not that Naiay moved from where she was sitting leaned against Vi’ruhl, obviously not too worried even if her tone had seemed to be somewhat warning.

Finally, Shyra brightened up, looking at Qui-Gon with a wide grin and held up the flowers. “But you’re okay with it...right?!”

Obi-Wan questioned his Master’s sanity when the older man gave a slight shrug and smiled at Shyra, “Absolutely.”

Naiay’s expression changed from warning to amusement and she turned to Obi-Wan instead. “Do you have another story?”

Smiling at her question, and the interest she was showing as well even if she was hiding behind it being for the younglings, Obi-Wan nodded and thought quickly for another tale that he knew well enough to tell. “What about Snow White and the Seven Ewoks?”

Naiay smiled at him, as did K’tria, and he figured it was a good enough one to run with for now. He started into the tale easily, though he wasn’t sure exactly how much the little ones understood since K’tria was looking at him with some confusion over the descriptions of Snow White. Though she didn’t interrupt, seeming to decide it wasn’t that important to fully understand. Even if he was pretty sure that the images she was forming in her head had to be odd with the females she was used to seeing.

As he told his story, Shyra had sat up a bit taller and started threading the stems of the flower’s she picked into Qui-Gon’s hair. Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine himself sitting so calmly, almost content looking, as someone he didn’t know, child or not, messed with his hair. And yet, Qui-Gon appeared serene, perfectly happy to let the child do whatever she pleased. Honestly, the Padawan suspected that if his Master were able to feel the Force and didn’t need his eyes to keep watch for possible threats, that Qui-Gon would have closed his eye and just let Shyra play with his hair as long as she pleased.

He saw a mix of colors out of the corner of his eye as the youngling who’d run off at Shyra’s prior suggestion came running back finally, and he turned his head to look at what it was. Only to realize she had a tray with a mix of colored paints on it. Once again he had to push back a laugh and refocus himself on the story he was telling so that he didn’t laugh at his Master’s luck.

Qui-Gon met his eyes and he was sure that his amusement had slipped across their bond as the brunet had raised a brow slightly at him, questioning what was so humorous to him. That question wasn’t left unanswered long as Shyra let out an excited purr as she spotted her friend and dropped the last few flowers she had in Qui-Gon’s lap. She took the tray and grinned up at Qui-Gon as she dipped a couple fingers in one of the vibrant colors. 

Which was immediately smeared into the Jedi’s beard.

Obi-Wan just barely managed to hide a laugh, clearing his throat instead, appreciative of the way K’tria immediately offered her cup of juice to him. He took it with a smile and took a tiny sip before passing it back to her with a nod of thanks before picking up his story again. As amused as he was by his Master getting himself into the situation he had, the Padawan also had to admire Qui-Gon’s ability to just accept it all. He still had a serene smile on his face as he let Shyra paint his beard in a mix of vibrant pink, green and orange.

Telling the story, Obi-Wan realized that he was nearly staring at the older Jedi. They weren’t quite the right sort of shade, but the flowers Shyra had woven into Qui-Gon’s hair were silver and the ones that rested near his temples made the younger man realize that age wouldn’t do his Master any harm. If anything, the silver was likely to make him look all the more trustworthy and charming. And…

The redhead stopped that train of thought, mentally shaking himself and tearing his gaze from his Master, looking instead down at K’tria. She seemed utterly entranced by his tale, her ears pricked forward as she leaned towards him, hanging on every word he spoke. Apparently he should see about sending some of the books of folk legends from different planets to Mirraq when they got back to Coruscant. He was sure the kind Mirialan librarian, Kaya he believed, would be happy to help. Anyone showing an interest in learning things that weren’t _necessities_ always made her excited.

K’tria gave an excited little trill when he got to the part of the prince kissing Snow White, her tail twitching excitedly. It was quite adorable to see her so obviously excited over true love’s kiss waking the sleeping girl and Obi-Wan found himself smiling back at her. Still, he finished the story, falling silent for a moment as he tried to think of another story to tell. Honestly, the Creche had been limited on tales that were told and he’d really not spent that much time worried about learning folk legends as a Padawan.

The youngling sitting by him looked away from him as he felt silent, her gaze shifting over to the other Jedi who still had a lapful of excited Shyra. Obi-Wan looked over as well, lips twitching into a grin as he saw the mix of colors in his Master’s beard. How Qui-Gon put up with it, he really didn’t understand as he couldn’t stand people messing with his hair, save for his Master that was. And for it to be some child, especially with _paints_ , would definitely bother him even more. Still, he couldn’t say that the older man didn’t make an amusing image as he sat there so calmly painted up like some strange clown.

Leaning into Obi-Wan’s side to get his attention, K’tria spoke softly to him, even as she stared at Qui-Gon. “Your mate’s eyes are so pretty…”

“Mmhmm…” The agreeing hum fell from him without him intending it to and Obi-Wan felt his cheeks heat slightly, telling him he’d blushed at least slightly when he realized what had happened. Clearing his throat, he shook his head slightly, giving a strained laugh. “That’s not...he’s not uh…”

Finally those blue-green eyes turned away from Qui-Gon, but the smirk on her face made him worry for a moment even before she spoke, her voice holding a calm confidence. “Yet. Give time.”

Oh how he wished he agreed with her confidence. Alas, they had both taken vows. And beyond that, he doubted Qui-Gon would have seen him in such a way even if they hadn’t. No, he would probably always be the annoying little kid that he had been when Qui-Gon had first accepted him as a Padawan. And it wasn’t appropriate for him to want anything else.

Tamping down on the bond he shared with his Master, praying that his melancholy hadn’t passed along already, Obi-Wan drew in a slow deep breath, racking his mind for another possible story to tell. He hadn’t noticed the frown that had taken root on his face as he thought, hating that he was drawing a blank on a child appropriate tale to tell. Lost as he was in his thoughts, he was barely aware of his Master muttering something to Shyra, only just able to recognize the low rumble and not quite the words.

And maybe he should have been paying attention as he suddenly had a youngling in his lap instead.

Blinking owlishly at Shyra for a moment, Obi-Wan spared a half thought to thank the Force that she hadn’t landed on him as she had Qui-Gon. Still, he wasn’t sure what she was doing in his lap. 

At least not until she giggled and smeared paint wet fingers down one of his cheeks.

So that was what his Master had been whispering about. He couldn’t have been left out of the mess, could he? Of course Qui-Gon had sicked the youngling on him.

Sighing heavily, he sat there as patiently as he could, even as he looked accusingly at Qui-Gon. Who just smirked back at him and started to talk softly with Naiay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> L'ow'eet (L-ow-ee-t) - Literally beyond, used to reference those out in space beyond Mirraq's reach


	12. Familiar Pastimes

Their day among the little ones at the K’aer’i had been fun, but there was still a part of Qui-Gon that was happy to return to their rut’il. If only to get out of the heat of the sun. Those on this planet might be adjusted to the temperatures, and this was their cooler season to start with apparently, but it was still a little much for Qui-Gon. 

At least with the triple layers that he wore out of habit. And he doubted that his Padawan was doing any better than he was. Usually the warmth wouldn’t have been an issue, but the disconnect with the Force meant that they couldn’t make their bodies adjust to the temperature as they usually did.

Thankfully, the rut’il seemed to stay cooler. Then again, he supposed the tops of the trees did offer a constant shade from the heat of the sun. Which was a blessing when they were taking part in the council meetings as well, for the shade covered the stone platforms well. He hadn’t realized that the days were still so warm until they’d spent hours sitting in direct sun with the younglings.

Had he been alone with his Padawan, he probably would have stripped down the two outer layers even with the drop of several degrees being inside offered. Alas, Naiay had accompanied them back to where they were staying. And training dictated that he be courteous with their company, whether he would rather have time to relax and not worry about appearances or not. 

“I think you made Shyra’s day.” Naiay spoke with a soft purr that rumbled within her words.

Qui-Gon chuckled softly at her words, pretty sure that was definitely an understatement with the way Naiay’s sister had been all over him. “I’m glad they had fun with us visiting.”

“Yes, and the stories...K’tria loved them so much.” She looked to Obi-Wan with a warm smile as the young man moved around the kitchenette. 

While the redhead was facing away from her, Qui-Gon was sure that Obi-Wan knew her words had been directed at him. That tiny pause in his movements as he grabbed a glass gave way the way he had nearly waved it off with modesty. But, it seemed that Qui-Gon’s constant reminder that arguing with someone about how they saw things was rude had finally sank in as his Padawan was quick to keep moving and gave a bland answer.

“Good.” 

The younger Jedi’s voice was a little flatter than one would expect, though a smile could be heard on his tone all the same, making Qui-Gon suspect he’d simply forced a smile to make it change how he sounded. One day perhaps his Padawan would learn to take even a simple compliment without being unsure how to handle it.

Looking up as Obi-Wan came towards him with a glass full of water, Qui-Gon raised a brow in question as he already had a glass of juice in hand. Two drinks at once was rather unnecessary in his opinion.

“For the flowers, Master.” Obi-Wan smiled slightly, that hint of mischievousness that always played in his smiles pulling at his features. 

“Oh.” Qui-Gon probably could have come up with a more elegant response, but he was still somewhat worn out from their day with the younglings. 

Setting the cup on the table, Obi-Wan shifted to stand behind his Master. Only decades of training to hide his physical reactions to things kept Qui-Gon from shivering at the first touch of his Padawan’s hands to his hair. Instead, he made himself sit still and let Obi-Wan do as he would. It wasn’t like it was at all uncommon for his Padawan to tend to his hair. No, all that was uncommon was Qui-Gon being unable to release dreams and emotions off to the Force so that they wouldn’t eat at him throughout the day.

The flowers had thankfully been thornless and didn’t pull much at his hair as Obi-Wan worked them free from the braid. There was the occasional hair that caught, but the young man seemed pretty aware and quite skilled at carefully pulling the flowers free without catching knots. Each blossom was placed carefully in the glass of water Obi-Wan had prepared, the redhead making sure he didn’t damage the petals as he worked them into the glass turned vase.

It was a sweet enough gesture, not letting them go to waste simply because they’d been used in his hair, but Qui-Gon wasn’t completely sure it was necessary either. Still, he was plenty willing to sit there and let Obi-Wan do as he wished. Even if it was draining to try to keep his mind focused so that he didn’t drift into thoughts that he shouldn’t have to start with. It was bad enough he didn’t have the personal strength to force his dreams to change when they went places they shouldn’t even if he knew he should.

“Qi’reta should have brought more food for you while we were gone today.” Naiay’s words were a blessing as they gave him something else to focus on.

“Pass on our thanks, if you would.” He smiled as he focused on the purple furred female. 

“I shall.” She purred, obviously pleased that he offered such kind words to her middle sister just as she had been over his kind wishes for Shyra’s birthday.

“Might I ask a question?” His head tipped slightly out of habit, but he wasn’t quite prepared for the way Obi-Wan’s fingers caught at his hair, pulling it taught to keep him from breaking a flower stem. 

Breath catching in his throat, Qui-Gon just barely managed to keep himself from making any sound at the flash of heat that raced through him. And he closed off his end of the bond, praying that it hadn’t passed along to his Padawan’s awareness. 

Naiay nodded at him silently, but the somewhat wide eyed look she was giving him, along with the hint of paleness to her cheeks confused him. Something had surprised her, possibly even embarrassed her, but he wasn’t sure what it was. At least not until he remembered her mentioning being able to smell one’s mate. Did that mean that she could smell other’s as well? Was she as aware of hormone changes as some animals were? Oh, he hoped not…

“Qi’reta, she seems rather shy of us.” Staying on topic seemed the best of plans for the moment.

“Yes,” Naiay sighed softly as she looked up at Vi’ruhl before focusing on Qui-Gon again. “She had a hard time learning to speak Mirraqui, she’s been afraid to try speaking Basic with anyone but family. Afraid she’ll say things wrong and be...solkyr...er… dumb? Again…”

Well, that took care of any lingering warmth from the tug at his hair. Instead, his protectiveness over younglings reared its head. Even if Qi’reta wasn’t a child by their standards, she was still young as far as he could tell, and he hated any child feeling that insecure. 

“Please let her know that neither Obi-Wan nor I will ever make her feel bad for something so simple as struggling with a new language. We know how hard it is to learn a new language. It takes time.” He didn’t even bother to try looking up at his Padawan as he spoke for he knew that Obi-Wan would share the sentiment.

Besides, he really didn’t want to risk another pull at his hair at this moment. He was simply not stable enough for that at this moment.

“I can’t even speak either of your languages well enough to hold a conversation.” Obi-Wan’s admission was likely hard for him to give, but Qui-Gon was proud of his Padawan for giving it all the same.

Opening up their bond again, he pushed that pride towards the young man, wanting Obi-Wan to know how he felt about that confession. He could feel the young man’s own pride rise to meet his, knowing he’d done well. But on its tail came a taint of exhaustion and Qui-Gon had to fight away a frown, not wanting to upset Naiay in any way.

“I shall let her know.” Naiay smiled at them as her tail wrapped around Vi’ruhl’s gently.

Qui-Gon offered her a smile of thanks and would have nodded to her if not for the hands still in his hair. Though that wasn’t true for long as Obi-Wan finally worked one more flower out of his hair and instead of putting the blossom in the water, he grabbed the cup and headed towards the kitchen area. He watched his Padawan walk away for a moment before he turned back to Naiay.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I believe the day has been a little more wearing than either of us expected… if it’s alright, I’d like for us to take an early night.”

He wasn’t quite prepared for the way her cheeks paled again as she glanced between the two of them and gave a nod. “We’ll leave you for the night then...though, if I may?”

Head tipping and brow raising, Qui-Gon nodded at her for her to continue.

“A shared bath will make it easier to get the paint off. It shouldn’t stain, but it can be hard to rinse out when you can’t see it.” She spoke as she stood up and headed towards the door, Vi’ruhl following after her. “Rest well.”

Qui-Gon wasn’t sure what to do with that suggestion of hers for a long moment. His mind had seemed to short circuit for a moment before he realized the implications of her words. Or at least what those words paired with her previous blanching made his own mind slide to. 

Not that he really needed the help in encouraging his mind to question what it would be like to share a bath with his Padawan. No, that was a curiosity that cropped up just fine on its own every time he shooed the young man off to the ‘fresher. Sighing heavily, he shook those ideas from his conscious thoughts again, trying to focus on something more important. Or at the very least more appropriate.

Standing up, he stepped over to the kitchenette to work on seeing what was available for them to eat for dinner. Thankfully, it seemed like Qi’reta had restocked their ice box with fruits again as that had been the majority of what they’d eaten. She’d also taken away the pans from the night before, meaning there was less clean up for the two of them to deal with. 

It was simple enough to toss together a light dinner for the two of them, the fruits cut up into bite sized pieces for ease. Qui-Gon took their plates to the table while Obi-Wan filled them each a glass of water before joining his Master at the table. Both were content enough to eat in silence as they had many times in the past.

Though in Qui-Gon’s case, that more due to not being sure what to say when his mind kept trying to run away with him. This had been expected to be a simple mission, just calm mediating and giving information and facts about the galaxy. Instead, this had become one of the most taxing missions he’d been on. Perhaps the Order focused a little too much on the use of the Force and had become too reliant. At the very least, the Jedi Master was certain he was too dependent upon the Force after the last few days. 

He’d have to implement some personal training when they got back to the Temple. Not that he was completely sure where one would find a Force suppression collar anywhere but the outer rim where slavery was still common. He would just have to figure out some way to make sure he was much better adjusted before he was given any other missions such as this. 

Frowning down at his plate slightly as he tried to think of ways to go about training himself to not rely on the Force for _everything_ , Qui-Gon was rather quick to finish his meal off. Still, he didn’t look up at his Padawan yet, lost in his thoughts. And seeing as Obi-Wan hadn’t bothered to so much as clear his throat, let alone speak, he supposed they were both alright with the lingering silence. 

Even if it felt someone heavier than that which usually settled between them.

Not thinking about it, Qui-Gon reached up to scratch at the side of his face slightly and found himself suddenly glad that he’d finished his dinner a few moments earlier as a few colored flakes drifted down to land on his plate. Right, he’d temporarily spaced the fun Shyra had with the paints. Sighing softly, he finally looked up at Obi-Wan, a smile tugging at his lips as he took in the sight of his Padawan’s painted face again.

“Go wash, Obi-Wan.”

“Yes, Master.” The redhead took his plate into the kitchenette before slipping off his outer tunic and tossing it towards their sleeping platforms before he headed into the ‘fresher.

And look at that, there were those thoughts that Qui-Gon had so carefully pushed aside earlier. Sighing heavily, the brunet ran a hand lightly over his face in exasperation. He closed down his end of his bond with his Padawan as he cursed himself silently, all too aware that Obi-Wan reacted more to his frustrations than he really should and would likely come to check on him. 

If only they hadn’t gotten caught in that stupid ritual, it would have been so much easier to ignore the images his mind summoned. Now, however, he knew exactly what Obi-Wan’s body looked like when not only naked, but when being pleasured. And it was that imagery that continued to haunt him even when he tried to push aside the thoughts and desires that were unacceptable for a Jedi. His mind now supplied him with memories of those soft sounds and the way Obi-Wan’s hands had sunk into his hair and the young man arched against him.

This planet was threatening to be the death of his sanity.

He took his own dishes into the kitchenette and took care of washing both sets. That done, he headed over to the cushions he’d slept on the last few nights as he pulled off his two outermost tunics. Sinking down in a smooth motion, one born of many years of practice, Qui-Gon did his best to sink into a meditation. It wasn’t likely to be as useful as the meditation he normally did as the Force was still quite stubbornly beyond his reach, but it wasn’t only the Force that allowed him to center this way. Meditation could help the mind some at the very least, which was better than just allowing himself to wallow in the imagery his mind insisted on summoning up.

There was a gentle brush against his consciousness, and now that he’d dealt with it a few times, he recognized it as Mirraq asking him to let her speak with him again. Not that he really felt like letting her in. No, she’d given him enough troubles as it was. And seeing as she didn’t seem worried, or at least she wasn’t pushing at his mind hard, he assumed it was nothing that was all that important.

Qui-Gon focused himself, making sure to ignore every brush of her consciousness against his own. The meetings would start up again come the next morning, or so he assumed, and he had to be sure that the way he answered the Morshiini’s worries was acceptable. In a way, he understood their hesitancy about joining the Republic and opening their world to strangers, but he also didn’t want their fears to stop them from doing something that might benefit their people.

It didn’t help anything that the Jedi agreed that some species might intend harm to their planet or their people. He suspected that there would be an interest in owning one of the feline like females among those in the outer rim. Still, if they were part of the Republic they’d have the support of the other Republic planets and that would offer them some safety. And besides that, he had a feeling that Mirraq herself might be able to manipulate those who landed on her surface who were too weak or untrained to have built mental shields up to keep her out.

“Master?”

The sudden voice had Qui-Gon flinching slightly even as blue eyes snapped open, the Jedi Master looking over to his Padawan with a slightly raised brow. “Yes?”

“The ‘fresher is all yours.” Obi-Wan’s face was lightly pinked still from the scrubbing he’d given it to get the paints off his skin; at least that was the only _acceptable_ reason Qui-Gon could think of for why he’d be flushed.

“Thank you.” Qui-Gon nodded to the redhead as he stood up and headed for the bath.

He wasn’t fond of washing his hair daily, it tended to dry out and show damage when he did, and so he focused mainly on washing his face and then a quick wipe down of his body. Still, as careful as he was, his hair was damp in places by the time he was washed and rinsed. After the hours they’d spent out in the sun, he was still overly warm, not that the warm bath had helped in that regard, and he only bothered with putting on a single tunic over his pants for the time being. He wrapped the belt around himself only to keep the tunic in place for the time being before he headed back out into the main living area.

Obi-Wan was sitting cross legged on his sleeping cushions in what seemed to be an attempt to meditate. Though it also looked as if he were struggling since every few moments the Padawan gave a frustrated sound and shifted about a little bit as if wishing that finding a more comfortable position would help. Walking over to the cushions on the ground, Qui-Gon pushed one cushion carefully with his foot over so that it was in front of Obi-Wan before he sat down in front of the younger man.

“Obi-Wan?”

Tension tightened Obi-Wan’s posture and the young man frowned slightly before answering, though he didn’t open his eyes. “Yes, Master?”

“I have a suggestion.”

“Oh?”

“A guided meditation might do us both some good.” While his Padawan didn’t so much as flinch, he could still feel the hesitation from the younger man through their bond. “I promise I will look nowhere you ask me not to. The smallest of shields will turn me away. But I believe that together we might be able to reach the Force and help center ourselves.”

Green eyes slowly opened, that same hesitancy in their depths as Obi-Wan met Qui-Gon’s gaze. “I don’t mean to keep secrets, Master, but-”

“But there are always some things one wishes to have for themselves.” Qui-Gon easily interrupted his Padawan, trying to be sure to soothe Obi-Wan’s fears. “We can focus on simply feeling the Force, like we did when I first accepted you as my Padawan.”

Obi-Wan’s brows drew together for a moment before he gave a slow nod and moved his hands from where they set on his thighs. He instead let his wrists settle on his knees, palms up in the open space between him and his Master in silent offer for the physical contact that allowed one to be guided.

Qui-Gon smiled at the redhead, resting his own hands atop Obi-Wan’s upturned ones so their hands rested palm to palm. “Close your eyes, I’ll guide us into it.”

As annoying as it was to accept, just touching Obi-Wan had once again left him feeling closer to the Force. Part of him realized it was much like a signal booster, two points of signal combined leading to a greater reach. Another part of him questioned why it was only when he touched his Padawan, for he didn’t feel that connection when Naiay or any of the younglings had touched him. It was confusing, but not something he could let himself ponder right now. Pushing those thoughts aside, he reached for the Force.

“Breathe, let yourself float.” 

Perhaps he shouldn’t have bothered to vocally guide his Padawan, but it was habit when taking part as the guide and so the words slipped free. Thankfully, Obi-Wan didn’t seem bothered by his words. If anything, the young man seemed to relax, doing as told. 

Qui-Gon could feel the Force around them much more strongly as he also let himself focus fully on their meditation. He had crafted a shield around his own emotions and thoughts, not wishing for Obi-Wan to pick up on anything that he should never be burdened with. And as such, he didn’t bother to go looking in his Padawan’s mind either. Like he’d said, this was to connect with the Force, not to sort through emotions. Right now they weren’t trying to release anything, simply to feel as one with the energy of the universe once more.

He let himself float in the ebb and flow of the energy around them, let that simple feeling of _life_ settle into his soul once more. It was the flood of awareness that made him realize just how cut off they’d been since landing on this planet and he hoped that this mission would end sooner rather than later. As much as he wasn’t pushing to step into his Padawan’s mind, Qui-Gon still realized he could feel Obi-Wan relaxing just as much as he himself was. This was in fact seeming to do them some good.

They drifted in the Force for a while, in fact Qui-Gon rather lost track of time. But eventually, Obi-Wan shifted slightly and a spike of pain drew the Master’s focus back to the present. Opening his eyes again, he looked over his Padawan, seeing the slight grimace on the other’s face.

“Your leg?”

“It’s just a scratch, Master.” Obi-Wan pulled back to himself as well, though he didn’t try to actively break their contact as he looked up into the older man’s face.

“I’m sure we could heal it…”

“Master, truly, it’s just sore because I was a little rough when bathing and scrubbed it too much.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you?” Qui-Gon could feel the tension in Obi-Wan, could feel the micro movement in the hands under his own as the Padawan fought not to pull away even though he wanted to. 

“I’m sure, Master. A night’s rest and I’ll not even be aware of it tomorrow.” Obi-Wan stared up into Qui-Gon’s eyes, at least seeming to believe what he was saying.

With a soft sigh, Qui-Gon nodded and lifted his hands from Obi-Wan’s. “If you change your mind, just let me know. I really don’t mind helping you.”

“I know, Master. But I promise, I’ll be fine.”

Fighting back another sigh, not sure he understood Obi-Wan’s refusal to heal himself, Qui-Gon pushed himself up to his feet so that he could move the cushion back in line with the others he’d been sleeping on. He moved to lay down on his makeshift bed, unsurprised to see Obi-Wan do the same. Even if he wasn’t sure how long it would take him to fall asleep, the rush of the Living Force still lingering at the edge of his awareness, it was nice to rest on the cushions and relax for the time being.

For perhaps the first time in quite some time, Obi-Wan was the first of the two of them to fall asleep. Not that Qui-Gon thought the younger man would be aware of that since he’d settled his breathing into a steady rhythm that was not dissimilar to that of his breathing whilst sleeping. He let his mind drift from thought to thought, from how to convince the Morshiini that opening their world would not lead to their destruction, to how to train himself how to handle being cut off from the Force, to what he would report to the council back on Coruscant and on and on.

At some point, he must have finally drifted into the arms of unconsciousness. Which he only became aware of when that voice that was slowly becoming familiar to him touched his mind again.

**You did well with the younglings.**

He was still floating in darkness, not really in a dream, but still aware enough to form thoughts enough to communicate with Mirraq. _I normally do._

Amusement. **Yes, I can see that about you.**

_What?_

More amusement, heavier, almost to the point he would expect to hear laughter. **Your soul shines brighter around them.**

Qui-Gon would have frowned if he were awake, not sure how to take her words and instead tried to shift the conversation. _Is there a reason you’re interrupting my sleep?_

**You only speak with me when not fully conscious. I would leave you be if you would speak to me elsewise.**

_Really?_ A dry response, not sure he believed her.

**Why don’t you find out?** Amusement shared with him again, frustrating with how she still seemed to view him as little more than a child.

_I don’t have time to waste on your ideas. I’m just here to see that your children do not start killing one another._

**And I thank you for that. But is that truly all you want? You don’t want to find your truth? Your balance?**

The way the last word formed, some kind of inflection that Qui-Gon couldn’t quite place bothered him more than the fact she was invading his mind without his permission. _Balance?_

**So you are curious…** Approval laced through her amusement and he truly didn’t understand that.

_I am more off balance here than I am usually. Without the Force...I feel almost like a Padawan myself again._ His frustration laced his tone and the sympathy she sent to him actually soothed a part of it away even if he didn’t fully understand how or why.

**Your balance with** him, **not a balance in energy.**

_I can’t._ The words formed within his mind before he could actually make a decision to let her hear them or not. 

**Why not?**

He would have sighed were he awake. _I will not hurt him._

**Hurt him? I would never suggest that!** Her tone shifted, her offense at the suggestion coming through clearly even though he hadn’t meant it.

_We are Jedi. I could not ask him to break his vows._

**Vows?** Curiosity.

_Yes. We both made vows to the Jedi Order. It is one thing for me to bend the rules, to break them even. If I am to be punished, I accept that. But I will not hurt him by taking him from the only thing he’s ever known._

**What vows would be broken? Why would your Order turn him away?** Confusion, protectiveness.

_We give ourselves to our work as Jedi. We do not seek things for ourselves. Whether that be possessions or pleasures._

**Hmmph.** He suspected that were she in a corporeal body she’d have rolled her eyes. **And doing so is enough to turn your Order against you?**

_I will not let him break his vows. I will not let him be hurt because of me._ It wasn’t exactly an answer to her question, but he was pretty sure she understood him all the same.

**Interesting.** The word did not match with the emotion, a mix of annoyance and protectiveness.

_I know we are strange to you and the beliefs you and your children hold, but we are loyal-_

**Wake up, child.** Insistent, worried, sharp.

_What?_

**Wake up now, child. He needs you!** Sharper, but this time with a push, forcing him away from the drifting black and to consciousness.

Qui-Gon woke up blinking in confusion, the sun only just starting to brighten the room. What had she been so worried about that she gave up on speaking with him. Sitting up, he glanced over at his Padawan only to feel a sharp worry strike through his core as well as his gaze landed upon the redhead who was curled up, shivering roughly and sweating heavily, his body nearly twitching.

“Obi-Wan!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solkyr (Soul-Keer) - Stupid/silly/dumb


	13. Fevered Dreams

That name….he knew that name. Though that voice felt more familiar, more like he should pay attention to it. And so, while it felt as if he were attempting to push a nerf away from himself using just his eyelids, he managed to finally look at the one who had called out. It took a bit for him to focus on what was in front of him, having only recognized color to start with. But finally he realized it was his Master that had called out; and who was currently kneeling next to him.

He smiled a little, unsure why his teeth seemed to be chattering, looking up into those beautiful sapphire eyes. K’tria had been right, Qui-Gon really did have absolutely beautiful eyes and Obi-Wan couldn’t quite remember a reason not to stare into them right now. Thinking took more effort than he really believed it should, almost as if he were having to swim against a constantly crashing waves and it was easier to just lay there than it was to try to think enough to speak. 

His Master’s palm landed against his forehead, cool and soothing. And had his mind been at all clear, he would have been embarrassed by the soft little whine that slipped past his lips as he tipped his head into Qui-Gon’s touch. As it was, he just let himself enjoy the older man’s hand on his skin, his eyes falling shut as that coolness soaked into his skin.

Obi-Wan knew his Master was worried, could feel it through their bond, but he couldn’t quite figure out why. He was just tired, a little warm, and just..really tired. The effort to stay awake was simply more than he could muster up and so he let himself drift away again into the darkness of unconsciousness.

That same voice woke him again, though this time it wasn’t quite so loud. No, this time Qui-Gon was talking to him softly, just gently saying his name, asking him to wake up. And he’d never really had it in him to deny his Master anything, and so he worked at finding a grasp on consciousness again. This time, when fever bright green eyes opened it earned him a smile from the older man.

“You need to drink some water.”

Qui-Gon’s words had Obi-Wan’s brows furrowing slightly. He wasn’t thirsty, he didn’t need a drink right now… 

The worry leaking across their bond grew stronger and Qui-Gon leaned closer to him. One hand slipped under one of his shoulders and carefully pulled at him, forcing his body to lift into a nearly sitting position. But Obi-Wan simply didn’t have the strength to hold the position himself, and the moment Qui-Gon’s touch loosened on him, he flopped back against the bed with a soft grunt.

A flash of panic raced across their bond, startling the redhead and he looked at his Master in confusion. There was nothing to panic about, he’d be fine after a nap. Just a little more sleep, and he’d be right as rain. And oh how tempting it was to just let his eyes close again, let the darkness of sleep take him again. If only so he didn’t have to put so much effort into thinking.

Once again he was pulled upright, and he went with a groan, head lolling off to the side a bit. He might have complained more, if Qui-Gon hadn’t moved to sit behind him. Feeling himself leaned back into his Master’s body, his head lolled back onto the older man’s shoulder as he surrendered himself to Qui-Gon’s support. Sleep was still pulling at him, but another part of him didn’t want to sleep away this moment and never get to enjoy being held like this.

Focused on the feel of the older man’s chest against his back and the arm that had wrapped around his waist, Obi-Wan didn’t notice Qui-Gon had a glass of water until something bumped against his lips. He gave a low grunt as he turned his head away from the glass. It just so happened, that it left him facing his Master’s neck, and without thinking he nuzzled just a little closer to the skin there.

Not that he was allowed to rest like that as Qui-Gon’s arm shifted so that he could lift his other hand up to gently grip Obi-Wan’s chin and turn his face back towards the glass. “Come on, Obi-Wan, just a couple sips…”

That almost pleading tone would have broken his willingness to refuse Qui-Gon on a normal day; right now any disagreement was shattered before it could truly form. He let his lips part slightly as the glass was pressed to his skin again. His Master carefully tipped the cup, the fingers still gently holding Obi-Wan's chin encouraging him to move with the action so that a tiny of stream of water could trickle into his mouth. Dutifully, Obi-Wan swallowed the water as Qui-Gon tipped the glass down again.

Once again he let his head fall to the side, breathing against his Master's neck as he let his eyes fall closed again. As much as he wanted to cling to this current moment, he could feel himself drifting towards sleep again. Even if he wanted to stay right there in his beloved Master's arms and...oh, that was a good word. Beloved. He liked that word.

It was with that thought that darkness swallowed him whole again.

When Obi-Wan floated back to consciousness again, he was pleased to realize he was still being held by Qui-Gon. If only he could wake just like this every time…

"Water?" That rumbling voice held a hint of worry still, even if Obi-Wan couldn't feel anything from his Master, as if one of them had closed off the bond they shared.

Groaning again, he tried to shake his head where it rested against Qui-Gon's collarbone. Not that he managed to summon up enough energy to really move much. But he really didn't want anything to drink right now, it just didn't sound good.

"Obi-Wan…" There was no disapproval in the Jedi Master's voice, only worry and a nearly hidden plea.

Again he tried to shake his head, floating in the warmth of Qui-Gon's body against his own. While he wasn't exactly nauseous, Obi-Wan just really didn't feel like drinking anything.

"Please, my Padawan, I need you to drink." Again those longer fingers caught Obi-Wan's chin to tip his head as the older man spoke. 

Well, there went all the fight Obi-Wan could summon up. That plea did him in and he couldn't even try to refuse Qui-Gon. So, he let his mouth open again, accepting the water that was poured into his mouth and swallowing as needed. He got a few sips down before his stomach clenched and a wave of nausea washed through him making him regret drinking so much so fast.

And he must have let out a sound of some kind as Qui-Gon immediately set the glass to the side and gently shushed him. "You're okay, just breathe."

Obi-Wan gave a tiny whine, but did his best to follow the directions given to him, pulling in slow breaths through his nose and releasing them through his mouth as his years of meditation had made habit. Slowly the nausea faded away and he was able to fully relax against Qui-Gon again, doing his best to imprint the feeling of those strong arms wrapped around him and the body behind him in his mind so that he would never forget it. With how fuzzy his focus was, he couldn't be certain that it would work, but oh how he hoped it worked.

He could hear Qui-Gon talking to….someone. The female voice wasn’t one he knew well enough to identify as he sat there with his eyes closed. And he really wasn’t even paying attention to what the conversation around him was since it was so much easier to just let himself float. Not that such a thing meant he was oblivious to his Master speaking. That was something he was very aware of, the sound of Qui-Gon’s voice was so near his ear that he couldn’t ignore it. Even if his brain simply processed that the brunet was speaking, not what the words themselves actually were.

Held within Qui-Gon’s arms, Obi-Wan let himself drift off to sleep again, still sure that enough rest would have him feeling better. Even while asleep he was aware of his Master sitting with him, the heat from the older man sinking into him and helping chase away part of the chill he’d felt. Besides that, this was something he’d dreamed about for years now. Not to mention just how safe he felt laying there, knowing that no danger would befall him so long as Qui-Gon was keeping watch of him.

As he drifted in sleep, he slowly came to realize there was another presence brushing against his mind. Shields took effort he didn’t have to spare at the moment and so he welcomed the presence in. Not that it spoke, not for the longest of times. All he was really aware of was a feeling of protectiveness and comfort being shared to him, like someone was helping to keep watch over him.

Though, the protectiveness slowly built as he let himself just relax into the darkness of his unconsciousness. Obi-Wan could also feel a bit of worry through his bond with Qui-Gon, though he was only barely aware of it at the moment. He’d almost think he was able to feel a little bit of fear leaking through their bond, but he’d never known Qui-Gon to share such an emotion with him, and there was no way the older man was dealing with that much fear that he couldn’t totally shield it from their training bond.

**Focus, Little One.**

Had he been in a better state, Obi-Wan likely would have flinched or at least woken up. As it was, he wasn't sure he understood what the voice was asking of him.

**Focus** , The word was formed more slowly this time, though a bit sharper as well, obviously trying to get him to do as told. **You’re drifting too far, Little One.**

He still didn’t understand. He was just sleeping, there was nothing wrong with drifting whilst one was asleep in his knowledge. Still, the voice sounded worried and he could feel something tugging at his mind as if trying to draw him back towards wakefulness. But as fuzzy as his mind still was, he didn’t think it made much sense to wake up again. Obi-Wan was obviously not over his exhaustion yet.

**Focus, Little One. Don’t leave your Beloved, Little One. He still needs you.**

Obi-Wan’s mind flashed instantly to his Master when she spoke, and he found himself greatly confused. Beloved? How could this presence know such private thoughts? Was he broadcasting? Or...was this just a dream perhaps?

**Not a dream. I am trying to help you, but you have to focus.**

_On what?_ The relief that washed through him the moment he finally formed words and tried to push them towards the presence, one part of his brain said he should know even if he couldn’t fully identify it at the moment.

**On him. Let him pull you back…**

_Back? From where?_

**That does not matter, Little One. Right now, you need to focus on him, on going back to him.**

_Never left him._

It would have been formed in a sharp tone had he been truly speaking, nearly offended by the mere idea that he would have left Qui-Gon. As it was, Obi-Wan still feared the day the council deemed him ready to be knighted and he was sent off on missions away from his beloved Master. And while he still wished to be a Jedi Knight, another part of him would be content to forever stay Qui-Gon’s Padawan.

**Good, you’re getting closer. Think about him, hear his voice, listen to him.**

Obi-Wan nearly questioned what she meant, but he’d found his focus shifting as she spoke, his awareness of his Master sharpening. It was then that he realized Qui-Gon was panickedly calling his name. Danger perhaps? Then he needed to wake up, had to find his way back to the realm of consciousness so he could help the brunet face whatever the trouble was. 

Green eyes slowly slid open, meeting the panicked blue gaze that was looking down at him. “M-master?”

Again, relief washed through him from an outside force, this time from Qui-Gon through their training bond. “Stay with me, Obi-Wan.”

Focus. That voice whispered at the edge of the redhead’s consciousness, and he let himself follow it’s directions as he looked up at Qui-Gon.

“Never left.” He hadn’t intentionally repeated himself, but it was the first thing he could come up with to say.

The older man gave a slight laugh, almost as if he didn’t agree with Obi-Wan before he moved one hand to grip one of his Padawan’s. “Can you try to help me reach the Force?”

Obi-Wan thought about that question for a moment, questioning if he had the effort to spare on it. But he also hated the idea of telling his Master no and so, he finally gave a slow nod and gently squeezed the hand holding his own. He would do his best to help Qui-Gon do whatever it was that he needed to do.

He opened up, letting Qui-Gon in so that the older man could guide them through whatever it was he was seeking through their connection to the Force. At least together they seemed to be able to reach it, and Obi-Wan was still being allowed to rest back against his Master’s chest, so he was pretty willing to just play all this out. Still, he was doing his best to focus past the part of him that wanted to just enjoy being held by the older man. Now was not the time to think on such things.

As he sat there focusing only on helping Qui-Gon touch the Force, Obi-Wan gradually became aware of his focus taking less effort. His mind was starting to clear for the first time all day. It took some time, but eventually, he started to feel more rested, more aware of everything.

Had he been sick? Was that what all that exhaustion was? But why hadn’t he been able to-...of course he hadn’t noticed it first settling in. Without the Force, he had no more awareness of his body than any other normal human. Cursing himself for not being able to put a stop to whatever had infected him before it put him out of commission, Obi-Wan looked up guiltily at his Master as he tried to sit up away from the taller man’s support. Only to have the arm still wrapped around his waist tighten and keep him in place.

“We’re not done. Just a few more moments, Padawan.” Qui-Gon’s voice was tight, and it was then that Obi-Wan realized their bond was still limited at the moment.

Frowning slightly, he still nodded and settled again, drawing in a slow deep breath and turning his focus back to the Force. Though at least this time he was able to help direct the Force as well, aiding in the healing of his body. Which seemed to track back to the scratch on the back of his calf from the day before. He’d never had to deal with something that would cause an infection quite so quickly and that was definitely something that they needed to report back to the Council when they were done with this mission. Hopefully they could figure out what it was that had caused the infection-

“Naiay said it was residue from the fuel used in the speeder.”

How did Qui-Gon know what he was focusing on? Right...shields. Those were a good thing to have. Of course his confusion and the focus on the wound had given him away. 

“I see. We’ll need to make sure that anyone travelling here is aware of this it could have been dangerous-”

“Deadly.” Obi-Wan wasn’t used to his Master interrupting him, and most especially with that sharp tone.

“What?” Very few things were usually considered as deadly to a Jedi, but then, they were Force limited at the moment and he wasn’t sure how much that little fact changed things.

“You stopped breathing.” Qui-Gon’s voice was soft, flat in the way one only managed when making themselves purposely avoid inflection so as to not give away their emotions; which just confused Obi-Wan even more.

“I what?” He stared wide-eyed up at his Master, not sure what to do with that information.

“You stopped breathing.” Qui-Gon repeated himself in that same flat tone. “I thought I had lost you.”

Obi-Wan bit down on his tongue to keep from giving the immediate answer of ‘never’ that wanted to break free of him. He couldn’t promise that. Not only because it was impossible to be sure when one’s life would return to the Force, but because to speak of that would be admitting to things he should never have felt. And that would cost him Qui-Gon, for the council would want him reassigned, to break their training bond and give them time apart for him to get over his emotional attachment.

Even if Obi-Wan were certain nothing could break that.

Sitting there silently, he worked at pushing his body to heal as quickly as possible. It would help him feel better and more like himself, but more importantly for this moment, it gave him something else to think about than the strong body supporting him. Besides, it wasn’t like he couldn’t think about that feeling later. He had no question that being held like this by his Master was cemented into his brain and would torture him in his dreams as much as their first night on this planet had so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised Obi wouldn't come out worse for wear.


	14. The Aftermath of Relief

Qui-Gon was glad that when working together he and Obi-Wan had been able to reach the Force with enough strength to heal the younger man. Even if it took longer than he would have usually appreciated. Right now though, it gave him an excuse to continue holding the younger man close and count each breath, timing them to be sure that there was no extra effort going into Obi-Wan’s breathing any longer. 

It was seldom that he panicked, but his Padawan’s breath freezing in his lungs had definitely caused him to. Whether he liked it or not, he was still struggling to get himself to calm down even though he knew Obi-Wan was still among the living for the time being. Which was his only excuse for the way he’d kept his Padwan from pulling away from him even though they didn’t need anything more than their hands touching to reach the Force. At least they hadn’t the last couple times they’d tried.

When he was finally certain that Obi-Wan was healed fully, he forced himself not to sigh as he loosened his grip on the redhead’s hand and dropped the arm from around his waist in order to reach for the glass of water. “You should drink something now; you were sweating most of the day.”

Taking the glass from the brunet, Obi-Wan nodded as he moved to sit cross legged facing his Master instead of leaning against him any longer. “Thank you, Master.”

Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan start to work on the water. A slight wince told him that the redhead had drank just a little too much too fast after the fever. He was healed now, yes, but that didn’t mean he was quite ready to gulp water even if he were finally aware of how much moisture had been shed and not replaced throughout the day. 

He sent some gentle comfort along their bond, finally opening it up again now that he felt as if he could actually breathe again. It had been many years since he had felt fear strike him so powerfully. The adrenaline was starting to fade and he felt the body exhaustion that it caused settling into place. At least he didn’t have anything terribly pressing that needed to be done, so spending a while sitting where he already was didn’t seem like a big deal.

“You said it was something about the fuel?” Obi-Wan had nearly finished his glass of water by the time he spoke.

“Yes. Naiay showed up shortly after I first realized you were having problems.” Qui-Gon gave a soft sigh as he shifted slightly to get a little more comfortable now that his attention wasn’t on his feverish Padawan but on the ache in his own hip. “She was confused by it until she checked your leg and realized you’d actually gotten wounded yesterday.”

Obi-Wan gave an almost scoff, shaking his head slightly. “I’d have expected her to notice from smell, as sensitive as she’s been to everything else.”

“She was pretty upset she hadn’t noticed. Their blood isn’t iron based like ours, she didn’t realize that the iron was something to worry about.” Qui-Gon had barely managed to soothe the Ambassador’s upset, and even that was only thanks to Vi’ruhl, when he’d been fighting back his own panic over Obi-Wan being so sick. “She’s making sure that the Mirraqui are made aware so that they can warn us before any other incidents such as this happen again.”

The redhead nodded at his words and finished off his water. Not that the young man set the glass down, instead he stared down into it as if wishing answers from the empty vessel. His Padawan wasn’t usually shy of asking questions, and the fact that he wasn’t speaking his mind at the moment worried Qui-Gon. Not nearly as much as Obi-Wan being delirious from a fever, but it was still something that concerned him.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, my young Padawan.” His voice wasn’t demanding, but the expectation was clear just from the words as Obi-Wan had always been honest with him.

Obi-Wan gave the tiniest of flinches, one that none but another Jedi would have noticed, and his fingers tightened against the cup. And while he seemed to relax again, Qui-Gon could feel the hesitancy through their bond since Obi-Wan either didn’t seem to want it closed off, or simply hadn’t spent the effort to do so since their healing. 

“I’m not here to judge you, Obi-Wan, I just want to know what is worrying you so that I may help you let go of those feelings.” Even if they weren’t able to reach the Force very well, Qui-Gon had learned that occasionally discussing things with someone trusted could help ease inner turmoil.

The younger man's frown stayed put on his face for another moment before he finally decided to speak, “I heard the planet while I was sick…”

“As did I.” Qui-Gon's answer came out easily. 

“You did?” Those green eyes lifted to meet his own gaze finally, though they held the shock that Obi-Wan had tried to keep out of his voice. 

“Yes. She told me to wake up.” Qui-Gon knew he didn’t have to explain further, and yet, he found the words forming all the same. “She worried for you and made sure that I woke up to tend to you.”

“I should probably thank her then.” Obi-Wan’s voice was soft and his gaze dropped back down to the cup he was cradling in his hands. 

“I suspect she already knows, but I will not tell you not to speak with her.” When those green eyes flicked back up to him, Qui-Gon gave a wry smile. “She did us both a favor, Obi-Wan. I won’t deny that.”

“But you seemed to be against speaking with her earlier…” 

Qui-Gon nearly argued with his Padawan before realizing that he hadn’t controlled his tone well when they had discussed the planet’s sentience days before. “I admit that some of the things she says are… exasperating. And, perhaps distracting when we cannot let things go to the Force. But it does not mean that we should completely ignore her either. She does seem to care at least enough to want us to stay alive, so she cannot be all bad.”

Obi-Wan gave a slow nod, glancing back down at his cup again. “I agree, Master. I believe that so long as we are careful not to let her twist our thoughts, that speaking with her ought to be safe enough.”

Qui-Gon nodded his agreement. “She doesn’t seem to intend any harm.”

There was a gentle wave of appreciation that he assumed came from the planet seeing as it didn’t radiate in him the way he was accustomed to form his connection with Obi-Wan. Besides, the young man had little reason for that clear of a feeling of appreciation. Though he was still more focused on his Padawan than anything and so other than the emotional touch, he wasn’t terribly aware of Mirraq’s presence. 

“I know she wants us to succeed on our mission. She has no more desire to see the Morshiini and Mirraqui fight than we do.” Qui-Gon had hoped to soothe some of Obi-Wan’s lingering uncertainty about speaking with the consciousness of the planet, but instead he was subjected to a flash of panic from the younger man that he hadn’t expected.

Not that he had to wait long for an explanation as Obi-Wan suddenly blurted out, “The council meeting!”

“They’ll reconvene tomorrow, about midday, so long as you’re up to it, according to Naiay. They’re giving as much time as needed for you to recover.”

“Master, you should have gone to the meeting, that is our mission!” The young man’s guilt over delaying the completion of their mission would have been obvious even if Qui-Gon couldn’t feel it leaking heavily through their training bond. 

“I tried, Obi-Wan.” Even if he’d not wanted to leave the young man while he was so obviously sick. But as they both knew, their mission came before any personal desires. “Naiay would not allow me to leave your side. She said the council would wait until you were better.”

Technically, she’d told him that the council viewed Obi-Wan as his mate and that it would be disrespectful for them to ask him to come to the meeting while his mate was suffering. Which meant they were required until both were healthy enough to attend. Though that seemed like something that Obi-Wan didn’t really need to know. It was much too likely to leave the Padawan easily flustered when dealing with the natives of this planet and that would just make their mission all the harder. Qui-Gon would weather their assumptions on his own.

“I’ll have to thank her in the morning.” Obi-Wan was obviously flustered as he tucked his chin closer to his chest, staring down at his cup.

Qui-Gon nodded at him. While he wasn’t sure that Naiay would find it necessary to be thanked for alerting the council to his illness and thus giving them time to get him better, he didn’t see arguing with Obi-Wan ending in anything but frustration. His Padawan could be as stubborn as Qui-Gon himself was when he set his mind to it, and something such as manners was never going to be a fight that the older man could win. 

Deciding that perhaps a change of focus was needed, Qui-Gon shifted to get one leg under himself in preparation to stand. “How about we find something for dinner?”

He knew his Padawan could definitely use the calories after fighting a fever all day. And it wasn’t like he’d gotten any more calories than Obi-Wan had as he’d spent the majority of that time supporting the younger man. He’d simply burned through less than Obi-Wan had. Either way though, his stomach was definitely making its emptiness known and he didn’t figure the Jedi-in-training was faring too much better.

Obi-Wan gave a nod before he stood up and headed for the kitchenette. “I’m still thirsty too.”

Qui-Gon gave a soft chuckle as he stood up as well to go in search of something for dinner. They still had quite a bit of fruit left in the icebox, so he figured that would be a good start. And some juice sounded like a decent way to get a bit of calories in so that he could think clearly. So he started there after grabbing a cup. 

Though, after Naiay’s suggestion that the water could help Obi-Wan handle the fever, he was happy to let his Padawan have another glass of water for the moment. Even if he didn’t quite understand how something as simple as water could be an active part of the healing process. They’d have to see about taking a container of water back to Coruscant with them and see about getting it tested. Most likely it was just superstition that had the Mirraqui believing their water helped with healing, but it wasn’t a bad idea to look into it all the same.

Tossing together a simple dinner was easy enough, and the two settled at the table once again to eat. Though this time, the silence between them rested much more comfortably about them. Both seemed to be content enough to spend time thinking on their own, words not necessary as they each dealt with the effects from the day. 

Qui-Gon was still somewhat on edge, still finding himself staring at the younger man every so often just to verify that Obi-Wan was still, in fact, breathing normally. Thankfully, Obi-Wan didn’t seem to notice the stares. At the very least, he didn’t react to them, instead just eating slowly and sipping at his glass. Though the younger man had to get up and refill his cup in the middle of eating. Which actually helped Qui-Gon believe that his Padawan was finally past the fever and his body was recovering again.

When they both had finished, Qui-Gon gathered the dishes and took them into the sink to start washing them. “Obi-Wan, why don’t you go bathe?”

The young man made a slight noise of agreement at the suggestion, tugging faintly at where his tunics were still clinging damply to his body. With that, the redhead disappeared to the ‘fresher silently. Seemed that neither of them really had any words to spare in the aftermath of their day. Which did make some sense Qui-Gon supposed, as he had been running on a much higher level of stress than he was accustomed to for much longer than he usually would have needed to. And Obi-Wan had likely been worn out by his fever as well. 

Out of habit, he tried to pull on the Force to check on his Padawan without breaking privacy by actually looking in on him in the ‘fresher. And this time, a slight grunt of annoyance broke free of him, making him suddenly glad that no one else was around. He was a Jedi Master and should be much more in control of his emotions. Not that he felt all that in control of them at the moment, feeling on edge and as if he could lose his self-control any moment. 

Sighing heavily, he wished for the Force again as he dried his hands. A subtle wave of regret washed through him, and he suspected it was an apology from Mirraq from being the one that cut them off from the Force. Not that he was willing to risk letting her into his mind again at this moment. He was simply too close to breaking to handle the things she tried to convince him to give into whenever she spoke with him.

Glancing around the room, he frowned slightly when he had to accept that there was little to do there. Though, he could straighten up the cushions from that morning as he’d not cared how his quick movements to get to his sick Padawan had pushed his makeshift bed apart. Walking over, he set about nudging the cushions about with the side of his foot carefully. 

Though somehow, without intending to, he’d pushed them not only back into a single line long enough to handle his height, but had also pushed them up against Obi-Wan’s cushions. Frowning down at what he’d done silently for a long moment, he gave another sigh before simply folding to sit down. He was still so very worried about his Padawan and supposed that he could forgive himself for wanting to be closer to the young man in case the fever were to return. It wasn’t likely to, but it was at least a passable excuse that he could tell himself.

The helpfulness of meditation was limited here, but it at least let him focus a little more clearly on himself when he tried. It would be a blessing to finish this mission soon so that they could leave and he could fully settle himself once more. After all, he couldn’t risk his Padawan picking up on anything that he was trying to release to the Force if they tried a shared meditation. He focused himself on facts in an attempt to calm the lingering hints of fear that he still felt lingering in himself. They had healed Obi-Wan, there were no traces of infection left in the young man, there was no need to worry about his health any longer. And yet, that worry and fear still persisted.

“Master?” The young man’s confusion was clear in voice and through their bond as Obi-Wan spoke.

“Yes, Obi-Wan?” Blue eyes slowly opened, looking up at his Padawan as Obi-Wan stepped closer to their makeshift beds.

“Is there a reason for our beds to be so close?” The redhead stopped at the end of the cushions, not yet moving to sit.

“The planet had to wake me this morning as I was not close enough to you to be aware of your distress. This will fix that.” Honest words, though his emotions were carefully kept controlled.

“I’m not sick any longer, Master. I’ll be alright.” Obi-Wan was staring down at the cushions rather than his Master’s face as he spoke.

“Indulge an old man’s worries.” Qui-Gon gave a slight smile, just enough to soften his words and make them come across much lighter than they would have otherwise.

“You’re not old, Master.” Obi-Wan’s voice was somewhat sharp as he spoke, obviously disapproving of how Qui-Gon had referred to himself.

“I’m nearly twice your age, Padawan.” Qui-Gon’s smile was easier to hold this time as he watched his Padawan in amusement.

“That still doesn’t mean you’re old.” Obi-Wan’s voice was still hard as he spoke, apparently not willing to change his view on that particular fact.

“Old or not, indulge me for the night. It will calm my worries and we can move the cushions in the morning.” Qui-Gon didn’t really have it in him to argue at the moment.

Obi-Wan was silent for a moment before a playful smile danced over his face. “On one condition, Master…”

One dark brow lifted, a silent question as he looked up at his Padawan.

“Let me fix your hair.” Obi-Wan’s grin was still in place on his lips as he finally knelt down on the cushions next to his Master.

Chuckling softly, Qui-Gon nodded. “I accept your terms.”

“Good.” Obi-Wan twisted to grab the brush from where he’d tucked it back into the bag laying next to the makeshift bed the last time he’d done Qui-Gon’s hair. “Now turn, so I can reach.”

The brunet was still smiling as he did as Obi-Wan requested of him, turning so that he was facing away from his Padawan. He let his eyes fall closed as his Padawan started to unbraid his hair, just letting himself float for the time being. Part of him knew that being soothed so easily by Obi-Wan tending to his hair for him was a bad thing, if only because it wasn’t something he could rely on much longer as the redhead would likely be facing his Knight Trials within the next year or so. The larger part of him just wanted to enjoy it, let those gentle fingers soothe his stress away when nothing else seemed to be helping. And being here on Mirraq, it was all the more needed.

Silence settled between them again, but this one lacked any kind of noticeable stress. Both were simply content to sit and focus only on the task at hand. It was why Qui-Gon had started to wonder if perhaps Obi-Wan found brushing his hair as calming as his Master found having his hair brushed. At least that would explain how often his Padawan offered to do so.

Obi-Wan had been careful not to pull his hair this time, of which Qui-Gon was very grateful for. The brush was set aside so that the younger man could start placing another braid in his hair. Though this one wasn’t as complex as the one he’d just undone, instead a simple three strand braid meant only to contain the long hair and keep it from being messy. Not that Qui-Gon had a complaint about that; it was more than enough that Obi-Wan had worried about his hair at all with how exhausted they both were after dealing with Obi-Wan’s infection.

When his hair was tied off, Qui-Gon turned to face his Padawan. Only to see the young man stretching out on his cushions already. A smile tugged at the older man’s features and he moved to follow suit, laying out next to the redhead.

“Ready for some sleep?”

“I’m ready to get some rest. I know I was unconscious most of the day, but I don’t feel like I actually got an-” Obi-Wan’s words were interrupted by a wide yawn. “Any sleep.”

“That tends to happen when one is sick.” Qui-Gon reached over and squeezed his Padawan’s shoulder gently. “Now sleep, we’ll need the rest for dealing with the council tomorrow.”

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan’s quick agreement was followed with another yawn.

Qui-Gon fell silent, focusing inward to relax his body and push himself towards sleep. Though he knew it wouldn’t come quickly. Not when he was still so very aware of his Padawan’s breathing. Still, he did his best to work on centering himself and relaxing so that sleep would come before dawn. A Jedi he might be, trained to handle rough conditions, but there was no need to push himself to the limits of his body either.

He could still feel the gentle presence of Mirraq as he laid there, slowly drifting closer to sleep. Drawing in a slow, deep breath, he opened himself to her once more.

_I owe you a debt of gratitude._

Amusement from her, **You owe me nothing, Youngling.**

_You woke me so I could tend to Obi-Wan, I will find a way to repay your kindness._

Her amusement increased, but she didn’t argue. **Keep my children from going to war and we will be even.**

_I will do all I can to ensure that war does not come. I do not know if I can stop it, but I swear to you I am trying._

**That is all that can be asked of you.** Her voice was firm, her belief in her words obvious. **Your comfort is safe now, you have healed him of the infection. You should sleep, Youngling.**

He still wasn’t sure how to handle her insistence on calling Obi-Wan his comfort, if only because it forced him to confront thoughts and feelings he’d hidden from even himself, but she had a point. _Thank you again._

Her presence drew back even without him trying to block her out and he suspected that had to do with her wanting him to sleep. And really, he couldn’t say she was wrong about it being needed. So he surrendered himself to the calm of unconsciousness.

He woke once in the middle of the night thanks to the juice he’d had with dinner, surprised to find Obi-Wan had scooted almost entirely onto the cushions that Qui-Gon was laying on, pressing close to him. Dismissing it after a moment as it being the cool of the night leading him to seeking warmth, the brunet made a mental note to ask Naiay about getting a couple blankets in the morning. 

By the time he returned from the ‘fresher, Obi-Wan had scooted even further onto the cushions that Qui-Gon had left and so he laid back down on what had originally been Obi-Wan’s side. He was too tired to even bother considering making an issue out of the exchange of sleep positions and sleep took him into her clutches again quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while, end of term is coming up at my Uni and I'm focusing rather heavily on that.


	15. Waking Early

It was rare that his dreams shifted in the middle and it took Obi-Wan a few moments to realize that his dream hadn't shifted, but instead he'd woken up. That low almost growl in his ear had in fact been reality and not a figment of his imagination. The room was still mostly dark when he opened his eyes, the sun just barely starting to brighten the skies. Not that he really had it in him to be bothered when he realized that the growl had come from his Master, who was currently pressed against his back with one arm looped around his chest. He had to fight not to let out the desire filled moan that wanted to break free of him when Qui-Gon's body shifted slightly behind him and he realized that his master was quite turned on.

Obi-Wan could feel his Master's cock pressing against him and that alone would have been torture. But the sleep softened sound of want in his ear broke him and he couldn't help the soft gasp he gave. Nor the way he pushed his hips back against his Master's. He knew it wasn't appropriate, but with sleep still lingering in his mind, he didn't have the self control to stop himself. At this moment, he would take anything he could have, burning the feeling of being held tight to his Master's chest and that thick length rubbing against his rear into his memory. 

Biting his lower lip, he clenched his eyes shut, trying to pretend that there was more to this than just an instinctual reaction to friction against tender flesh. Were this a dream, he wouldn't have had to wish for more, Qui-Gon would have simply stripped them both bare and brought them both to release. Alas, he was stuck in reality where that would never happen.

Another slow shifting of Qui-Gon's hips against his own and Obi-Wan gave a soft moan. Biting his lip to the point he was certain it was about to split, he stopped himself from moving halfway through the motion of pushing back against his Master’s hips. He couldn’t do this. No matter how much he craved his Master’s touch, he couldn’t let this continue. It wasn’t right for him to take advantage of the older man’s unconscious touch like this. And if Qui-Gon wouldn’t give him this when awake, he had no right to let himself enjoy it now.

Swallowing thickly, he gently grabbed his Master’s wrist and peeled that arm away from himself. It took more effort than he’d expected when Qui-Gon tried to tighten his hold to keep him close, but finally Obi-Wan managed to push the older man’s arm off of him and wriggled off the bed. 

He blinked a couple times as he realized that somehow they had switched sides in the middle of the night. Well, that was something to figure out later when his brain wasn’t addled by desire. At the moment, he headed straight for the ‘fresher knowing that he would never be able to will away his current state. Not even if he had the aid of the Force at his disposal.

Realizing that there was no lock on the door to the ‘fresher brought a curse to his mind. Though it was also then that he realized he should close off the training bond he shared with Qui-Gon if he didn’t want to be thoroughly embarrassed. Obi-Wan considered his options briefly, deciding how best to go about it since it wasn’t like he really gave into his body’s needs very often. He settled pretty quickly on the shower, hoping it would rinse away any smell that their hosts might pick up on that way.

Muscle memory was likely the only reason that his hands didn’t stumble over his clothes as he stripped himself quickly before stepping into the bath. As seldom as he gave into his body’s wants, Obi-Wan still found it awkward as his cock bounced as he moved. But at the moment, that could be ignored in favor of setting the water to a suitable temperature. 

Once the water was warmed, he took the shower head and sprayed down one of the stone benches to warm it enough that it wouldn’t be a shock to sit on. He carefully knotted his Padawan braid up so that it wouldn’t get wet as he let the warm water heat the stone. Putting the showerhead back in place in its holder, he was able to angle it just enough that it flowed over him, hitting his chest and streaming down as he sank onto the bench he’d warmed. 

Drawing in a slow deep breath, Obi-Wan spared a second to verify that he’d fully closed off the training bond with his Master. Or at least, as closed as he could possibly manage. Once he was certain of that, he let his mind wander back to the feeling of Qui-Gon pressed against his back that morning. He let his eyes close as he let the imagined sensations of his Master’s body against his own drag him back down fully into the haze of lust.

One hand moved to encircle his length, his breath catching at the feeling. He bit the inside of his lip to help remind himself to stay quiet, not wanting to have to explain the wound to Qui-Gon should he break the skin. Staying quiet was a necessity if he didn’t want to be caught by his Master doing this of all things. And that was one thing he was certain he didn’t want to have happen.

Even if his mind questioned what it might be like if Qui-Gon did walk in and decided to join him. And oh, that was definitely worth thinking about a bit. Pure willpower kept him from moaning at the idea of the older man stripping down to join him under the spray of the water, those large hands on his skin and that enticing rumble in his ear. The way his hand had started to stroke in a surprisingly easy rhythm hadn’t been a conscious decision, but it had started all the same. 

Between waking up to something he had only ever thought possible in dreams and the fact he had so seldom taking himself in hand, it didn’t take terribly long for him to feel himself edging closer to his release. Perhaps it would have been embarrassing if another person were with him, but right now it just meant that he was less likely to be caught. Besides, he had no one to impress anyway, so he really didn’t have it in him to care.

Obi-Wan imagined that it was his Master’s hand gripping him, that Qui-Gon was pressed close to him, pushing him towards his finish. He knew it was inappropriate, but he simply didn’t have it in him to pretend it wasn’t what he wanted with every beat of his heart. Which meant this was where his mind went every single time that he gave into his desires. And thanks to this mission, he now knew exactly what his Master’s hand upon his cock felt like, making the fantasy all the more clear in his mind.

He was panting softly, hips lifting into his own touch as he tried to mimic the way Qui-Gon had stroked him, complete with the thumb sliding over the tip with each upstroke. Head tipping back against the edge of the bath, he let himself chase the release he knew was closing in. When it finally hit, he couldn’t quite stop the low whine he gave as his hips jerked up against his hand and he spilled himself.

Thankfully, the water rinsed it all away pretty quickly. Still, he took a few moments to just breathe and let the flood of hormones settle within him. It did seem to help his stress some, but he wasn’t sure it was worth the trade off of the possibility of being caught by Qui-Gon doing something that wasn’t disallowed by their vows per se, but was somewhat frowned upon. At least he assumed it was. It wasn’t exactly something one could just bring up in discussion. Especially not with the person who caused such urges to begin with.

Obi-Wan only allowed himself a few moments to revel in the calm that his release had offered before he made himself move. Grabbing the showerhead again, he rinsed his body, hoping that it would be enough to hide what he had done from their hosts. Though before he could shut off the water, his worry of being called out on what he’d just done had him grabbing the soap and quickly lathering his body and then rinsing again. It was the best he had and he prayed it was enough.

Once he was as clean as possible, he shut off the water and moved to dry off and dress once more. If he were lucky, Qui-Gon would still be in bed and he’d have time to center himself mentally again before having to speak with his Master.

Untangling his braid from where he’d tied it up, he pulled at it carefully in an attempt to make it look less like it had been knotted and more like he’d just slept on it. When he was finally content enough with it, he tended to his other morning rituals before heading out to the main room of their rut’il. He figured he might as well prepare breakfast for them since he was far too awake to ever be able to get back to sleep. Besides that, he couldn’t even think of joining Qui-Gon on their combined beds again.

Going to the icebox, Obi-Wan was startled by just how much food was there before he realized that he’d probably just missed Qi’reta restocking their supplies while he’d been feverish. Losing basically a whole day was something he’d never had to deal with before and it left him a little off balance for a few moments. Frowning slightly, he mentally shook himself and set about digging out some fruits for their breakfast.

Turning to set them on the counter, his eyes caught on the small glass that still held the flowers from a couple nights earlier. Obi-Wan gave a soft chuckle, the sound barely passing his lips, as he looked at them, mind flashing back to the day they’d spent among the younglings. Most men would have looked ridiculous with paint all over their face and flowers in their hair. His Master however, had been oddly charming, and completely relaxed in that moment. It wasn’t a look he got to see often, and he realized now that he wished he did.

Sighing softly, he shook his head, trying to remember to focus on the now and not dwell on things that didn’t matter. He grabbed a knife and a couple plates from the drying rack and turned back to the counter that held the fruits he’d picked for their meal. Though his gaze caught on those flowers again, wondering how these flowers lasted so long. In his experience, most flowers started to wilt quickly, at least enough to be noticeable. And yet, these ones looked the same as they had when he’d first pulled them from Qui-Gon’s hair. 

Perhaps it was a fertilizer? Maybe it was something the Mirraqui could trade if they convinced the Morshiini to allow them to open their planet up further than just to their local moons and back? It was at least worth bringing up if they did decide to join the Republic. Oh well, that could be discussed at a later point. 

He set about slicing up the fruits, losing himself in the motion as if it were a kata. The Force may be beyond his reach for the moment, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t try to center himself. Even if it wasn’t as good, it was better than nothing. 

Caught in the repetitive motion of preparing their breakfasts, Obi-Wan actually flinched when Qui-Gon sat up suddenly with a frustrated grunt. Looking over to his Master, the redhead was about to ask what was wrong only to notice that the older man was nearly stomping his way towards the ‘fresher. At least his movements counted rather close to a stomp for the usually controlled and silent footed Jedi Master. Blinking a couple times in surprise, the Padawan stayed silent and worked at finishing the task he’d set before himself. 

Usually his Master was a morning person, so Obi-Wan wasn’t exactly sure what to do with Qui-Gon in such a fowl mood. He couldn’t recall really ever seeing the older Jedi in such a bad mood when just waking up. All he could do was hope that breakfast was enough to at least help shift his Master’s mood. Especially since he was pretty certain Naiay would be checking in on them soon enough to see if the council would be resuming today or not. And seeing as he was in a decent condition healthwise again, he saw no reason for them not to reconvene.

He had finished preparing their breakfast and had time to set the table, complete with a glass of water for them each, before Qui-Gon emerged from the ‘fresher again. There was still some tension in the older man’s stance, but at least he wasn’t glaring as he stepped back into the main room. Obi-Wan gave a slight smile and nod to his Master from where he was seated at one side of the table and was relieved when Qui-Gon nodded back as he made his way over to the table as well.

“You’re up early.” Qui-Gon’s voice was soft, and not quite as teasing as he’d likely meant it to be.

“Yes, apparently all that water I drank last night caught up to me…” His lips curled in a playful smile as he shrugged slightly. “And then the lack of food from yesterday as well.”

That earned him a smile from the older man and soft chuckle as Qui-Gon started in on his breakfast. “Yes, that does happen.”

Lying really wasn’t a skill that Obi-Wan tried to nurture in himself, but at times it was a necessity. And at this moment, he was glad that his Master had believed him. Or at the very least hadn’t called him out on his fictitious answer.

“Do you think the council will continue today?” He hoped the answer was yes, not sure how in the Force he was going to survive a day alone with Qui-Gon right now.

“Naiay said she would come check on us this morning. If you were doing better, as I told her you would be, then she said the council would reconvene at midday.” Qui-Gon answered easily around eating his breakfast, slowly relaxing more and more as he sat there.

At least Obi-Wan wouldn’t have to try to cover for his overly stressed out Master during the council meetings. Naiay had told them that they were both viewed as being allowed to speak as delegates from the Republic, but he wasn’t sure that they would really be happy with him taking over from Qui-Gon so completely. It was a relief he didn’t have to test that possibility.

“Good…” Obi-Wan paused, taking a sip of his water before adding on, “I look forward to completing this mission.”

Qui-Gon gave a more solemn nod this time as he looked down at his own plate. “As do I, my young Padawan.”

“Truly, Master?” The redhead couldn’t quite help the shock that coated his voice at his Master’s admission.

“Yes.” A soft sigh fell from the older man as he picked up another piece of fruit and popped it in his mouth. Chewing it and swallowing, Qui-Gon finally spoke again. “Not all missions are easy to handle, and I believe this one is wearing us both down.”

Obi-Wan nodded his agreement. As much as he doubted they were being worn down in the same way, he could see how the disconnect from the Force was affecting his Master. Then again, the older man was so clearly linked to the Living Force, that it wasn’t terribly surprising. There was some sensation from those around, mainly when they were dealing with strong emotions, but it wasn’t nearly at the level that either of them were used to. And as much as Obi-Wan himself wasn’t focused on the Living Force, even he could feel the lack of presence around them. It had to be almost as if a limb had been removed for his Master.

If only he could claim the same reason for being so on edge without the Force at his fingertips. Sadly, lying to himself had never worked and so he had to accept things as they were. And just try to keep functioning past them.

In a way, he was glad that Qui-Gon allowed the silence to fall around them again as it saved him from any more questions that he might answer badly. Focusing on eating, he realized that he hadn’t been entirely untruthful with his Master, his stomach was quite empty and the food was definitely welcome. Finishing off his meal, he politely waited for the older man to finish eating as well before he took their dishes to be washed up.

His Master hadn’t moved by the time he’d finished with the dishes and Obi-Wan frowned slightly, not liking the tension that still clung to the older man. If it was something he needed to know about, Qui-Gon would have told him, but he still hated to see the stress in the brunet. Sighing softly, he noticed that the braid he’d put in place the night before wasn’t completely destroyed, per se, but was definitely not nearly as neat as he’d expected it to be. Had his Master suffered from bad dreams the night before?

Obi-Wan went to retrieve the brush again so that he could fix Qui-Gon’s hair before they had to go before the council again. Returning to where his Master sat, the redhead tucked the brush into the edge of his belt to hold it to clear up his hands to pull the tie from Qui-Gon’s hair. As many times as they’d done this, he was quite surprised when the older man twitched away from him and reached up to pull the end of his braid out of Obi-Wan’s hands and around the front of his shoulder.

“I’ll take care of it.” The other’s voice was nearly flat, carefully controlled so that no emotion showed in his tone.

Brows knitting slightly, it took Obi-Wan a moment to find his voice, pushing aside confusion and a tinge of hurt that he knew had no place. “I don’t mind fixing the braid, Master.”

Qui-Gon gave a barely audible sigh before speaking again. “It doesn’t mean you need to do it all the time, either. I can take care of it.”

“If I didn’t want to I wouldn’t have grabbed the brush.” He was pretty sure that his frown was obvious in his voice as he spoke, and he could only hope that his honesty wasn’t taken badly.

Though, even as he spoke, Obi-Wan found himself questioning if perhaps he’d gotten too comfortable with this? Was he making Qui-Gon uncomfortable with how often he’d been taking care of his Master’s hair? He’d done it a lot over the years, but not normally quite so _daily_ now that he thought about it. Perhaps he was overstepping boundaries he hadn’t considered before?

Chin tucking in closer to his chest, Obi-Wan snagged the brush from where it was tucked and held it out past his Master’s shoulder so that Qui-Gon could see to take it. “Apologies, Master, I didn’t mean to argue.”

The older man reached up to take the brush, but his fingers had barely settled against the plasform when their host slipped inside their rut’il. She purred slightly at the sight of the two of them, smiling warmly at them.

“You are better!” Golden eyes showed the happiness she felt at that fact.

“Yes, I’m sorry I worried you.” Obi-Wan allowed Qui-Gon to take the brush and took a step back to give his Master room.

“No, I’m sorry. I should have warned you about the fuel fever before you got sick.” Her cheeks were pale as her ears dropped slightly, still obviously feeling bad about it.

“We are from a different species, you didn’t know I was injured, it’s not your fault, Naiay.” Obi-Wan focused himself on the feline-esque female and gave her a comforting smile.

“I still do not like that you got hurt from my…” Naiay paused, searching for a word. “M-mistake?”

“Exactly, it was a mistake.” His lips curled a little more easily, playful almost as he added on, “If you’d done it on purpose then I might have held it against you.”

She blinked a couple times at him before she returned his smile hesitantly. “Then you are up to council today?”

“Yes, that we are.” Qui-Gon was the one to answer this time as he reached up to work on undoing his braid; the brush sitting in front of him on the table.

A soft purr was given by the alien female before she looked up at her mate, meeting his eye for a moment before he nodded and slipped back outside. “Vi’ruhl will let the council know.”

“Good. We’d like to help you resolve your problems before they grow worse.” Qui-Gon spoke calmly as he worked his fingers through his hair.

Obi-Wan was silent, standing off to the side with his hands tucked demurely within his own sleeves. Both he and his Master wanted this mission to be over, but at least Qui-Gon wasn’t being obvious about that fact. Focusing instead on the fact the problem for the Mirraqui and Morshiini peoples could get worse was a safe way to try to push through these meetings without offending.

Naiay came to sit across from Qui-Gon, her eyes flicking between the Jedi for a moment as her smile faded away. “Did I interrupt?”

“Not at all.” Qui-Gon’s answer came quickly, though not quite so much as to make it seem strange to anyone but Obi-Wan who knew that the lack of smile in his voice said the older man was still on edge for some reason.

She gave a slow nod as she watched the brunet finally separate the last bit of the braid so that his hair fell in waves behind him. “Are you sure your comfort is well enough for council?”

While the words had been obviously directed at Qui-Gon, it was Obi-Wan who spoke first. “I am fully healed.”

Those bright green-gold eyes flicked back over to the younger of the Jedi and her head tipped slightly, her voice soft as if she worried that she was asking something she shouldn’t. “Then why aren’t you helping with your comfort’s hair today?”

The Padawan blinked once in surprise at her question, not quite sure how to answer the question. Instead, he found himself staying silent, waiting for his Master to answer her question.

“I am capable of taking care of my own hair occasionally.” While Qui-Gon’s answer was carefully shaped with a smile, Obi-Wan could feel tension leaking through their training bond, realizing that the bond had returned to its normal state without him focusing on keeping it closed down.

“But would it not look nicer if he were to do it?” Naiay still looked hesitant, but she had also shown in the council meetings that she wasn’t one to back away from a topic just because she was nervous.

“I-” Qui-Gon paused, drawing in a slow deep breath and releasing it in a soft sigh before giving a slight nod. “I suppose it would.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what to think of his Master seeming to give into Naiay’s suggestion, not yet stepping up close to the older man again. Even if he did want to. There had always been something calming about brushing out his Master’s hair and atop that, right now he also felt a need to prove to himself that he could keep his mind focused on acceptable things even when touching the older man.

“Obi-Wan, if you would still like to…” Qui-Gon didn’t look back at him even as he made the offer, and Obi-Wan hated the way that stung.

“Of course, Master.” He stepped forward again, grabbing the brush from the table in a smooth movement.

There were what looked like a few decent tangles in Qui-Gon’s hair and Obi-Wan was careful to grip at the dark hair so as to not pull as he brushed it. He let himself focus near entirely on what he was doing, letting his Master and their host speak as he worked. It wasn’t quite as calming as brushing Qui-Gon’s hair usually was, but that had to do with the way he was too questioning whether this was actually something his Master was alright with. Or had the older man simply given in because Naiay was there? Was he pushing boundaries without being aware of it? 

He considered the same five strand braid that he’d placed in Qui-Gon’s hair a few days earlier, before dismissing the idea. If he were crossing boundaries in regards to physically touching his Master, then he should make sure things went as quickly as possible so he could step back again. Even if he thought that the more intricate braid would look nicer. A simple three strand braid would go faster, and that would be enough for now.

There was a vague awareness of Qui-Gon and Naiay discussing what they’d had for breakfast, and a mention of her being glad that he had drank some water that he wasn’t quite sure he understood really, but he didn’t really care about catching every word either. It seemed to be just idle chatter to fill the air as he worked on making sure his Master looked presentable before going before the council again. 

The moment he finished the braid, Obi-Wan stepped away from the older man again, taking the brush back over to the bag it belonged in. His own braid would be passable for another few days unless he felt like redoing it before then, so he wasn’t terribly worried. Thankfully the tiny braid tended to take longer to become a mess than his Master’s hair did. 

Vi’ruhl stepped back in past the curtain-door and moved to stand behind his mate once more. “They say we will meet at midday.”

“I’m glad to hear it. We didn’t intend to delay the meetings.” Qui-Gon responded with an easy tone, obviously more at ease now that Obi-Wan had finished with his hair.

Which just made the redhead more sure he’d done something wrong. He’d have to find a way to fix it; once he figured out exactly what he’d done wrong that was.

“I am sure Sil’kir was appreciative of an extra day of rest as she adjusted to being with kits again....” Naiay smiled a little as she spoke.

“She’s doing well then?” Obi-Wan spoke from where he’d knelt down on the cushions they’d been sleeping on. 

“Yes, Mirraq smiles upon her.” Naiay’s voice was laced with a low purr.

“We’re happy to hear that.” He smiled at her warmly, able to be fully honest in his words as young ones were always a blessing in his mind.

Naiay gave another warm purr before her focus shifted to Qui-Gon once more. “I have heard rumors of what the Morshiini plan to bring up at the coming meetings…”


	16. Making Progress

Having partaken in many deliberations, Qui-Gon supposed he should have been more prepared for the vitriol that the Morshiinic delegates had spewed during the council. Even with Naiay’s warnings of how xenophobic the Morshiini could be, and the fact they’d learned about slavery being common in the Outer Rim, he really hadn’t quite been ready for the accusations thrown at him and Obi-Wan. Still, he’d managed to not lose his temper whilst in the meetings.

Though it had taken a couple days to convince the Morshiini that those of the Outer Rim were not a representation of those in the Republic. And as much as he’d nearly told his Padawan off for it, somehow it had actually helped them when Obi-Wan pointed out that the Republic might even be seen as more civilized than those of Mirraq since they wouldn’t punish an innocent child for what their parents had been guilty of such as how Naiay’s cousin was distrusted over his father’s transgressions.

There seemed to be something between the two races in regards to such things as that had seemed to be the start of the Morshiini actually listening to the Jedi. And Naiay had talked about their visit with the children, telling of how the children had been willing to trust them. Not that Qui-Gon had understood the importance of that until they’d had dinner together and she explained that the children had stronger connection to Mirraq and that she guided their trust or distrust of adults. Meaning that the children, and thus the planet itself, trusted in the two of them.

With the acceptance of Mirraq on their side, the meetings started to finally go a little bit easier. If he’d known it would be that easy to get the Morshiini to listen to them, he’d have tried to figure out a way to get Mirraq’s blessing known by the council earlier. Hindsight was always better than his precognition ever dreamed of being. 

Another thing that had helped them was realizing that Obi-Wan’s passion when arguing on behalf of the Republic actually helped the Morshiini pay attention as well. Apparently they were a more emotionally driven race than the Mirraqui and the pride they could see in the younger Jedi helped them be willing to consider the idea of opening their world to the Republic. Qui-Gon’s calm logic had apparently seemed too much like he’d been planning what to say in order to try to make them believe him, while Obi-Wan spoke from the heart and thus had to be speaking the truth.

Though Naiay had explained it as the two of them being balanced with one another. That neither would have been fully believed if either had been there on their own. Whether they had gone with logic or with passion for defending themselves and the Republic, they would have been judged if not for the way they looked to one another throughout the council meetings. Qui-Gon’s clear trust in his younger mate, as the Morshiini insisted upon calling Obi-Wan, helped encourage those of this planet to listen to him when usually one so young would be mostly ignored. 

As Vi’ruhl had finally explained, those on Mirraq aged a good deal more slowly than humans did. Naiay was only a few years younger than Qui-Gon himself even though she looked to be no older than his Padawan was. She was only just old enough to be partaking in the councils herself, meaning that Obi-Wan was basically a child in their eyes. Thankfully, they’d sent along some basic medical information including the way humans aged and that they really weren’t as young, in comparison, so that they would be listened to at the council.

With so many things counting against them, Qui-Gon was honestly rather surprised that the council members were taking them seriously. And he hadn’t been quite so sure up until the Ta’liac announced one morning that the two of them were going to speak in private and would summon everyone back when they’d made a decision. Rather surprised by the announcement, Qui-Gon looked to Naiay in question, hoping she would have some kind of insight.

“Gih, they have heard our reasons, together they will decide the fate of Mirraq. Eir.” Naiay spoke softly even as she turned to lead the way up and out of the council platforms.

“I see.” Qui-Gon wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not, but it wasn’t like he could argue against whatever their customs were.

Obi-Wan was following after him silently, but there was a clear frustration coming across their training bond. Not directed at anything in particular, but simply in his life as a whole at the moment. Qui-Gon couldn’t exactly blame his Padawan for that as he was also rather tired of how almost sedentary their life had been on this planet.

Even with Naiay bringing Shyra by to visit with them over dinner the night before, they both wished they could do more than just sit around after the council meetings. Obi-Wan had started to do Kata near nightly to pass the time, and Qui-Gon suspected to wear himself out as the redhead had grown a lot less talkative the last several days as well. Though the rut’il was a bit small to allow them both to work through the forms side by side. Which was why the older Jedi had simply pulled upon his self-control and pushed aside his own stress for the time being. He could handle it until they were free to leave Mirraq and back into contact with the Force once more. 

Still, he could feel the tension bleeding over from his Padawan and he worried some about it. “Naiay, would it be possible for us to go for a walk perhaps?”

Gold-green eyes glanced back at him and she gave a soft smile. “Gih, yes, a walk is more than welcome. Though...I believe Vi’ruhl will be going to… Na’pin” She realized her word hadn’t translated well since both Jedi looked at her with question in their eyes. “...er… fight this afternoon. Eir.”

“Fight?” Obi-Wan’s voice was carefully controlled, but Qui-Gon could feel the sharp intrigue that had flooded their bond and it caused a light smile to play over his lips.

Vi’ruhl was the one to answer this time, “Lih, we fight together. Friendly, but to be sure we are ready to protect our families. Rea.”

“We call that sparring,” Obi-Wan glanced back at the Mirraqui man following him up the stone steps. “It can be a good way to relieve some tension too.”

“Lih, it can. I’ve been needed here, but it will be good to make sure I haven’t fallen behind. Rea.” Vi’ruhl spoke on a slight grin.

Qui-Gon could feel the nervousness in his Padawan and after a quick glance back at Obi-Wan, the faintly indulgent smile still playing on his lips, he spoke to Naiay once more, making sure to respect her societal rank here in public. “Naiay, perhaps we could go along with Vi’ruhl? Watch them fight?”

Naiay was quiet for a moment until she reached the top of the stone walls that surrounded the council platforms. She turned to look at the two Jedi for a moment as all three males joined her on the wider walkway. 

“Gih, the information you sent to us said you were peacekeepers...but you fight too, yes? Eir.” Naiay wasn’t quite smiling, but there wasn’t clear denial in her expression either.

“Yes…” Qui-Gon wasn’t certain what she was looking for in an answer, but all he had was honesty. “We are trained to be able to protect ourselves and others in need.”

“Gih, then I do not see a reason you couldn’t. All jada are welcome in the Na’pin areas. Eir.” She smiled at them and gave a soft purr before her attention slid to her mate and she spoke in a quick stream of Mirraquian. 

Vi’ruhl responded in their native tongue, both the Jedi unsure exactly what was being discussed, before he gave a slight dip of his head and looked to Qui-Gon. “Lih, I will take you with us. I do not know if you will be able to fight with us, but I’m sure we can find you a space for yourselves. Rea.”

“If you feel we are invading your space, that’s alright. We are happy enough just going for a walk, we don’t have to go with you.” Qui-Gon wasn’t sure what made Vi’ruhl uncertain about them, but he also wasn’t one to try to force someone to deal with anything that wasn’t a necessity.

“Lih, it is not that...Rea.” Vi’ruhl was silent for a moment, searching for a way to explain himself. “Lih, we are strong warriors. Who use all the gifts Mirraq gave us, Rea.”

Both the Jedi were confused by his words for a moment, but it became rather obvious what was meant when the Mirraqui male lifted one hand and his nails lengthened into obvious claws. Well, that definitely drove home how animalistic they looked. Retractable claws hadn’t exactly been something they’d expected, but it made sense with their features. And explained why he was nervous about letting them join him and the other Mirraqui jada.

“I see.” Qui-Gon gave a slight nod as he spoke. “We normally use our lightsabers anyways.”

“Gih, lightsaber? Eir.” Naiay broke in, intrigued by this new term.

“They are plasma blades, we train from the time we are young to use them.” Qui-Gon reached down to pull his ‘saber from where it hung on his belt. “It ignites when the button is pressed, and they are used quite similar to swords when fighting, they’re just more dangerous than a simple metal blade.”

Naiay’s ears were pricked up in her interest as she listened to Qui-Gon speak. “Gih, and you do not hurt each other? Eir.”

“Never!” Obi-Wan’s sharp response was thick with emotion, almost horrified at the mere thought of injuring his Master.

Qui-Gon reached out to grasp his Padawan’s shoulder, squeezing gently as he smiled at the younger man before looking to Naiay again. “No, we train for many years to have control of our ‘sabers. They’re an extension of ourselves by the time we are sent on missions such as this. I would no more expect your jada to hurt one another with an uncontrolled hand than I’d expect Obi-Wan to hurt me with his lightsaber.”

She glanced between the two men and gave another soft trill, her tail waving slightly behind her. “Gih, it sounds interesting. Eir.”

“We would be happy to show you...if it would be acceptable.” Qui-Gon wasn’t exactly sure whether he should check with Naiay or Vi’ruhl, and so he glanced between them.

Vi’ruhl’s nose twitched and he looked at his mate intently, a couple soft Mirraqui words slipping from him. His tail hung neutrally behind him, no clear emotions showing in the bodyguard.

“Gih, Vi’ruhl can ask for a Na’pin spot for you….” Naiay smiled warmly at them, her tail reaching out to her mate and twining around his. “Would you mind if I came to watch? Eir.”

That she would ask was somewhat confusing, but both Jedi were happy to nod their agreement. Being raised in the Temple on Coruscant meant they were both at ease even when being watched whilst sparring. It meant little to them to be watched and they didn’t really understand why she would need their permission.

She trilled again, glancing at Vi’ruhl and smiling warmly at him before she headed down towards where her speeder waited for them. Qui-Gon tucked his ‘saber back on his belt as he followed after her. The chance to spar and work out some of the physical side-effects of the stress he’d been dealing with on this mission was quite enticing. And he could feel that his Padawan was of a similar mind as the excitement the younger man was feeling leaked through their bond. 

Smiling softly at his Padawan, he stepped up into the speeder after Naiay. Though instead of sitting instantly as he had the last time they’d ridden somewhere with their host, this time he turned and offered a steadying hand to Obi-Wan. He didn’t want to risk not noticing if the younger man was hurt again now that they knew the dangers of the fuel sources here on this planet. While they would be able to heal him before it went into a fever again, he also didn’t want to deal with the worry that struck him much more deeply than it should over the possibilities of what could happen to Obi-Wan.

His smile never faltered as the redhead took his hand and gripped the edge of the speeder with the other hand as he carefully climbed up as well. Both men moved to sit nearly in perfect sync, facing their host as she grinned happily at them. Qui-Gon suspected that she was once again thinking that they were working towards a bonding, as she’d termed what she shared with Vi’ruhl, but at least she wasn’t saying anything as she watched them. It was easier to ignore when not outright spoken of.

Her tail had lifted to curl around her mate’s as he started up the engine and pulled it away from where it’d been docked. They headed away from the council gathering, but it wasn’t quite the same path as the one they’d taken to the village. Instead, they headed further off into the forest. As used to life on Coruscant as he was, Qui-Gon always loved making it out to forest blanketed worlds. It was simply beautiful.

The silence that settled around them seemed pretty comfortable, so Qui-Gon didn’t bother trying to fill it as they traveled. Besides, Naiay had let her eyes close and was leaning as close to Vi’ruhl. Why would he interrupt her relaxation?

He let himself just watch the scenery as they passed by, the trees blurring as they sped up slightly. Apparently the Na’pin grounds were quite a ways away from the village itself.

As much as the Force was beyond his ability to manipulate, he could still feel a hint of the Living Force pulsing around them as the speeder moved deeper and deeper into the forest. Qui-Gon had intended to more closely watch the vegetation of this planet, but that hint if normalcy had his eyes drifting closed as he let the presence of the trees they passed fill him. It was soothing to feel the Force like this, even muted as it was, and he found himself wishing that his Padawan were more attuned to the Living Force as well. If only in a hope that it could help soothe the stress that clung to the younger Jedi. 

Even if he were only peripherally aware of that stress through the excitement that had flooded their bond at the chance to spar.

They may not focus on fighting simply for the sake of it, but even the Jedi Master could empathize with the way Obi-Wan was looking forward to this. There was a calmness to be found in the repetitive motion, the give and take, of matching another Jedi in the kata of their 'saber techniques. His own excitement was but a blip compared to his Padawan's, but the brunet hoped to center himself in the training ingrained in them both from their years as part of the Order.

A subtle nudge of amusement and sympathy forced Qui-Gon to remember the sentience of the planet. She didn't seem to actually want his attention, wasn't pushing at him for a response. Which was, frustratingly, a relief as he wasn't interested in having a conversation with her at the moment. She kept trying to encourage things that he refused to accept about himself, that he couldn't let himself actually want. Every conversation with her had left him more on edge and determined to not let himself believe what she said. 

After all, to accept her suggestions that Obi-Wan might mean more to him than as a Padawan, and even worse, that he meant more to the younger man than a mentor, meant that he had screwed up somewhere and been inappropriate enough to cause it. No matter what hormone fueled dreams left him wanting, he had a responsibility to make sure his Padawan never knew. And to never influence the younger man into things that were unacceptable such as the feelings Mirraq kept suggesting existed.

To accept either his own, or the supposed ones Obi-Wan held, was to accept he had failed completely as Jedi Master to his Padawan. 

Drawing in a slow deep breath, he pushed aside those thoughts yet again and forced his eyes to open once more. Naiay still seemed content to ride with her eyes closed and tail still entwined with her mate's. And, after taking but another heartbeat to remind himself to focus clearly, he looked over to his Padawan.

A faint smile took root on his face at the amazement clear on the redhead's face. He still sometimes forgot just how inexperienced his Padawan was. The wonder of new planets no longer struck Qui-Gon the way it did Obi-Wan. Even on strange planets where the natural vegetation looked nothing like that which they were accustomed to, he was simply accepting of it. His Padawan however, was still awed by things that were new to him. Whether it be trees taller than he was used to, or colors he didnt expect in nature, or even the strange call of a bird, Obi-Wan's clear intrigue in the new and unknown was so very clear. 

Perhaps one day the young man might grow out of it. Qui-Gon hoped he never would. Losing one's wonder left their life just a little more dull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Na'pin (Nah-pin) - Sparring/fighting
> 
> I apologize for how long this update took. I had finals, then a few mental health days where I just needed time to relax from finals. Fell down my stairs and broke my foot, then I had to do an emergency move out of my house and into my aunt's RV. Basically, life has been hating me. But I'm starting to get settled and am back to doing at least a little bit of writing again. So here's chapter 16, finally finished.


	17. A Chance to Spar

The planet was beautiful and Obi-Wan was happy enough to watch the scenery pass in it’s amazing mix of colors. Had his Master been talking, he would have made himself pay attention to that and perhaps even take part in the conversation. As it was, he was comfortable with the silence that had settled between them all. The low hum of the speeder didn’t count since it didn’t require focus on his part in any way.

He was aware of his Master sitting next to him and that little part of him, which had been speaking up so much more often than it usually did since they landed on Mirraq, wondered if he could get away with reaching out to the older Jedi. Touching one another seemed to be the only way that they could really reach the Force, and he supposed that might be enough of an excuse. But what if it weren’t? What if Qui-Gon realized why he wanted to reach out so badly? Would he lose his Master? Be given to a new Master when they returned to Coruscant to finish his training? 

That was something he could not risk.

So, he kept his hands upon his own thighs, fingers curling against the edge of his tunics to make sure he didn’t give into that stupid little desire. Soon, if he were lucky, they would leave this planet and he would once more be able to release things to the Force freely. At least then he could trust that he’d be able to finish out his training with his beloved Master. 

As the trees thinned around them and the speeder started to slow, Obi-Wan looked toward the front of the speeder again, instead of out at the vegetation they were passing. They were pulling up towards a massive cliff face. It formed nearly a half circle and was at least twenty-five meters high. Vi’ruhl guided the speeder to a stop at the edge of where the foliage gave way to the wide stone flat that lead up to the cliff face. 

Obi-Wan could see several males standing on the outcroppings on the side of the stone wall, though he wasn’t quite certain how they’d gotten up there as he didn’t see any winding pathways like the council area had. The flat area of stone before the cliff side was perhaps fifteen meters wide and there were a couple males off to one side already sparring. As gentle as Naiay had seemed since they arrived, and the way Vi’ruhl had always followed her lead so calmly, left him somewhat surprised by the viciousness in those who were already sparring.

They both attacked over and over, claws slashing, teeth bared and tails moving to help them balance as they dodged the other’s attacks. If this was their sparring, Obi-Wan could just imagine how destructive an actual war between those on this planet. No wonder civil war was something that worried Naiay so much. 

And why Vi’ruhl had been unsure of letting them join the jada in their na’pin.

Even as skilled of fighters as he and his Master were, Obi-Wan wasn’t certain that they would be able to escape unscathed if push came to shove against those native to Mirraq. He was decently sure that they would escape with their lives, but beyond that...who knew? Stopping a civil war was definitely a necessity.

One of the males that were sparring slipped a little and didn’t quite manage to dodge the incoming attack, and while Obi-Wan’s training would have dictated that he pulled the attack, the Mirraqui didn’t show the same kind of restraint. Instead, claws caught on flesh, tearing through with a terrifying ease and spilling vibrant silver blood that ran thickly down the stumbling male’s shoulder. The injured male ducked his head and lowered his tail as he backed up, one hand raising to grip at his bleeding shoulder.

“Lih, he accepts Kin’arr’s strength. Rea.” Vi’ruhl spoke softly once he’d turned the speeder off, glancing back at the worried looks on both Jedi’s faces. 

“Do all fights end this way?” Qui-Gon’s voice was less worried than Obi-Wan thought he could manage, so he stayed silent for the moment.

“Lih, most. One can submit before being forced to, but it is rare that we would. Rea.” Naiay nodded along to her mate’s words, but left it to him to explain the ways of the jada.

“I see.” The older Jedi gave a simple little nod of acceptance.

Vi’ruhl stepped down from speeder before turning to look at the Jedi fully, his head tipping slightly in question, and eyes widening slightly in his curiosity. “Lih, do you submit before forced to? Rea.”

“We are trained to avoid making contact with a body unless we intend to kill. Our sabers would not stop at just a minor wound such as the scratch Kin’arr dealt. If we were to land a strike where he did, we would have removed the arm.” Qui-Gon stood as he spoke, carefully stepping down from the speeder before turning to look to his Padawan.

Obi-Wan felt a wave of embarrassment wash through him at the way Qui-Gon was obviously checking that he didn’t get hurt again stepping down from the speeder. Drawing in a slow breath, he stood up and moved to join his Master on the ground, one hand gripping the side of the hovercraft securely. He made sure that each placement of his feet was sturdy before he shifted his balance to that leg. 

When he was standing next to Qui-Gon, he felt one large hand settle on his shoulder and squeeze gently. He knew that his Master cared about him, but that offer of comfort was still appreciated. Even if he knew that the older man’s affection for him was purely that of a Master for their Padawan. 

Perhaps one day that knowledge wouldn’t hurt so much.

Naiay was staring at them with wide eyes as she climbed down from the speeder as well. “Gih, you could remove a limb on accident and you still use these sabers for friendly fighting too? Eir.”

“We are trained from the time we are very young how to handle the lightsabers.” Obi-Wan could see the uncertainty in her gaze still and after a few seconds tacked on a quick, “Besides, they only stay ignited as long as the button is held.”

“Gih, and if it is not? Eir.” The worry was still there, but she seemed to be willing to trust what he had to say as well.

“Then they turn off again. And without the blade ignited, it won’t do any damage.” As far as he was in his Padawan training, he was able to control his swings enough that he didn’t need to rely on turning the ‘saber off; though it was always a back up option.

“Gih. I don’t quite understand. But I am looking forward to watching. Eir.” She smiled warmly at them before looking at her mate and speaking softly in Mirraquian.

Vi’ruhl nodded to her and walked out onto the stone that served as a training area. Obi-Wan had assumed that he would talk to whoever was in control of this na’pin area since Naiay had mentioned that he could ask for them to be allowed to spar, but what he hadn’t expected was to see one of the Mirraqui males straight up jump from the stone shelf he’d been standing on. Even if they’d had the Force at their fingertips, that would have been a bit of a jump. And yet, the jada didn’t seem at all bothered, his knees barely flexing at the impact. 

He glanced at his Master, not really able to see the surprise in the man’s face, but he was sure that Qui-Gon was just as shocked as he was at how easily the Mirraqui male had landed. No one but a Jedi could hope to stand against this race if things ever went badly. And while he assumed that his Master would report that bit of information, he figured he probably should make sure the council knew that they were both in agreement on that. It would be better for the Senate to know as much as possible before they welcomed the Mirraqui and Morshiini into the Republic.

Standing calmly next to Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan watched the way Vi’ruhl spoke with the other male. While he would have originally assumed the male who jumped down would have been of a higher social rank, the way Vi’ruhl kept his head and tail held high as they spoke made him wonder if they were of a similar rank instead. At the very least, Vi’ruhl didn’t seem to be willing to submit to the other’s status currently as they discussed things. 

Obi-Wan decided he would have to spend some time learning the languages of these races if they did decide they were interested in joining the republic. Being left wondering if a conversation was going in their favor or not was strangely stressful and he found he wasn’t at all fond of that feeling.

Finally the male who had come to speak with Vi’ruhl stepped back with a wide wave of his tail before he turned and leaped back up onto the platform he’d been on. Those digitigrade legs made this race much more dangerous than Obi-Wan had first believed. Hopefully there would be no need for violence of any kind on this planet.

Vi’ruhl came back over to them with a slight smile on his lips. “Lih, Ti’kuhl says you’re welcome to show how you fight. He is interested in these ‘sabers of yours. Rea.”

Qui-Gon was the first to speak, giving a slight dip of head in thanks. “Thank you. Are there any rules we should be aware of before we do this?”

Silence hung between them for a moment before Vi’ruhl spoke again, “Lih, injury is an immediate end to a fight. We try not to draw blood if we can avoid it. Rea.”

“We won’t hurt one another, I promise you that.” Qui-Gon’s certainty was accompanied by a hint of pride that leaked through their training bond, which warmed Obi-Wan slightly.

“We train from the time we are little on how to do this. Unless we mean to injure an opponent, it will not happen.” Obi-Wan leant his own voice and confidence to his Master’s words.

“Lih, then I look forward to watching. Rea.” Vi’ruhl gave a faint twitch of his tail and a slow blink to them before he turned to Naiay and spoke softly to her in Mirraquian. 

She purred at her mate, her tail brushing along his shoulder before she looked to the Jedi. “Gih, we are all interested. Eir.”

With that, she and her mate headed across the flat stone area and to the cliff face so that they could both jump up onto one of the empty ledges. She was smiling as she looked down at them, kneeling down to watch them with excitement clear not only in her expression but in the way her tail twitched excitedly.

Obi-Wan couldn’t say that he’d been that excited to watch someone spar. At least not since he was very young and getting to watch the Master’s spar as an example of what the crechelings should one day be able to do. Though, he supposed this wasn’t all that dissimilar. This was a form of fighting that they had never seen before, that was so incredibly new to them that of course it would be exciting to them.

Shaking himself out of his judgemental thoughts, the redhead shrugged his robe off at near exactly the same time as his Master. Though he wasn’t quite so careful at catching it and folding it before laying it on the speeder. His own folding job could barely be considered such and his robe looked little more than a wad of brown cloth as he dropped it next to his Master’s on the hovercraft. 

He was certain that his excitement was bleeding through their training bond, but he didn’t have it in him to really care too much at the moment. Not when he could finally burn through some of the excess energy he’d been struggling with the last several days. 

Following the older Jedi out onto the flat stone, Obi-Wan drew his ‘saber from his belt. Qui-Gon finally came to a stop in the middle of the arena and drew his own weapon. Both gave a nod to the other, not quite a bow but still respectful all the same, and pressed the buttons that ignited their ‘sabers. The blades didn’t quite reach one another with how they were held, but the Padawan felt the presence of those around him fade away from his awareness as he focused fully on his Master and the weapons they held.

Qui-Gon shifted his weight subtly, falling into a stance that Obi-Wan didn’t need to spend any effort on recognizing. The tilt of the brunet’s ‘saber along with how he settled himself was more than enough to tell the Padawan that his Master had chosen to take on the defensive side of this battle. 

At least for now. 

After all, they’d never managed to finish a bout without each of them playing both that of defense and of the aggressor. Which meant this was simple enough for Obi-Wan to fall into the role he’d been given for the time being.

He went for the attack, ‘saber swinging with ease toward the older man, not even a hint of worry in him that he might make contact. Qui-Gon had decades more training than he did, and deflecting the incoming strike was effortless for the older Jedi. The redhead committed himself to the role his Master had silently given him, swinging his 'saber over and over again, countered each and every time by Qui-Gon.

Losing himself in the familiarity and comfort of sparring with his Master as he had for so many years now, Obi-Wan let go of the stress that had been weighing so heavily on him. In this moment, the cursed desires that plagued him didn't matter. And even if Qui-Gon's attention was merely that of a Master, it was still fully focused on him for this short little while. Like this, he felt in balance with the older man rather than feeling as if he would drag Qui-Gon down if he weren't to keep his emotions carefully in check.

A faint smile played over his features as they met one another through each step of the familiar kata. He had always found that practicing with his 'saber, alone or not, centering. Even on days when he couldn't seem to release everything to the Force, the repetitive motion was always soothing to him. And this time was no different. 

Obi-Wan was enjoying himself, matched perfectly by his Master. Whether by instinct or from their years practicing with one another, he wasn’t sure. But whatever it was, he was glad that he finally had the chance to work through the physical stress he held. If he were lucky, he wouldn’t have to deal with the dreams he’d been plagued with every single night since they landed on this planet.

Lost as he was in the motions, the younger man didn’t even notice when Qui-Gon shifted from being on the defense to taking on the role of aggressor. And yet, it didn’t cause him a single moment of pause. His own movements stayed in balance with his Master, easily giving up his original role to the older man. It was his turn to block the incoming strikes and he took to it as easily as he had to being on the attack.

Enjoying the peace brought on by sparring with his Master, Obi-Wan wasn't certain when exactly they had added in some of the more superfluous twists and spins to their attacks. But still, they were perfectly matched, neither at any kind of risk from the other's 'saber. A quick spin to the left and a strike to follow was met easily, effortlessly almost, and then returned by a strike by the other. Which was fended off just as easily.

It was moments like this were the Padawan actually believed he could make it as a Jedi. He never doubted himself with his 'saber in hand. It was everything else he worried about and struggled to keep his anxieties in check. 

Though as focused as he was on the swings of their ‘sabers, Obi-Wan hadn’t noticed that their movements had put him in line with a rock on the ground. Stepping on the rock, his ankle twisted, throwing him off balance and to the side for a moment. Thankfully, their Jedi reflexes didn’t seem to be too impaired even if they couldn’t fully reach the Force right now and Qui-Gon managed to shift his incoming attack enough that Obi-Wan could still block it. There was a lack of force behind the strike as well, which he greatly appreciated as it gave him a moment to find his balance again.

The ankle was sore, but not in a way that spoke of damage so much as slightly strained muscles. It was far from the worst injury he'd given himself while sparring and he recovered quickly, changing how he held his balance. Though he also made himself be a bit more aware of their surroundings at the same time. This wasn't the training halls on Coruscant, this was open ground on a planet they didn't know. He needed to stay aware if he wanted to avoid actually hurting himself, or his Master, during this sparring session. 

While Qui-Gon said nothing about his stumble, Obi-Wan could feel the lessened power behind the next several swings of his Master's 'saber and knew the older man was worried about him. But right now, they were showing their skills to this race and that meant verbally discussing a misstep wasn't quite the way to go. Instead of speaking, he took on a bit more of an aggressive style himself, taking back the attack and putting his Master on the defensive again. His strikes were strong, letting the brunet know he was okay without any words exchanged. 

It took him almost no time to work them both back into the fanciful twists and spins that were all but second nature to them when it came to sparring. Reading the way Qui-Gon tried to take on the role of aggressor again, Obi-Wan twisted about, coming down with a fierce downward strike that would finish most any enemy besides a Jedi.

However as he started to come down, he registered a child-like squeal of his Master's name. Blinking once to clear his focus so that he was aware of more than the fight with his Master, Obi-Wan realized that the sound wasn't just child-like, but had in fact come directly from a child. One who was running forward into their fight with no understanding of what damage might be done to her.

As in sync as if they were a single person, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan both deactivated their 'sabers before little Shyra could get near enough to be hurt. Though, the downward motion of the redhead's swing still threatened to at least bruise her. And so, he locked his muscles, stopping the motion before he could hurt her.

Even as he did so, Qui-Gon was moving to scoop the child up and spin her out away from Obi-Wan in case the Padawan couldn't fully stop his movement. Training was the only reason he was able to keep from making a sound of pain when the muscles pulled in his shoulders. It pulled in his left shoulder first, but the burn in his right shoulder told him that he may have actually done a bit of damage to those muscles whether he’d meant to or not. Fighting back a heavy sigh, he shifted his saber fully into his left hand and tucked in back onto his belt.

Forcing a smile to his lips as he looked at the young girl who was quite obliviously clinging to Qui-Gon and already chattering at him, Obi-Wan tucked his arm up against his chest to tug lightly at his braid. Hopefully, it passed as being more a sign of anxiety than him attempting to keep his arm close to himself out of pain. Though the concerned glance that his Master threw at him told the young man that at the very least Qui-Gon knew he’d hurt himself making sure he hadn’t hurt Shyra.

The youngling was absolutely oblivious to the danger she’d been in, so that was enough for Obi-Wan and he wasn’t too bothered by the minor hurt. He’d heal up quick enough. He always had in the past.

Her guard, Xaq, didn’t look quite so unaware though when the redhead glanced at him. Those deep purple eyes were wide and his tail twitched nervously, even though Shyra was now safe. Stepping over closer to the young male, Obi-Wan tried to make sure the pain he was in didn’t show on his face.

“She’s safe. We are well trained to avoid hurting anyone on accident.” He didn’t think it was necessary to explain why they trained so heavily at making sure accidents didn’t happen. 

Xaq gave a silent nod, though the twitching of his tail still spoke of left over worry. Obi-Wan was proud of him all the same for his self control when he was so obviously on edge, having recognized the danger that Shyra had unwittingly put herself in. 

“Come, why don’t we all go sit.” Obi-Wan’s voice was soft and kind as he spoke, glancing up at his Master to make sure that he’d been heard and they were all on the same page.

Qui-Gon nodded to him and headed towards the edge of the training arena, not bothering to set Shyra down for the moment. Obi-Wan and Xaq moved to follow him over to the grass again, the Mirraqui male starting to relax finally. The Padawan wasn’t surprised to see Naiay and Vi’ruhl had leapt down from the stone ledge they’d been on. When exactly that had happened, he actually wasn’t sure as he’d been more focused on the children than he had been on anyone beyond the range of their ‘sabers.

Naiay walked up to Qui-Gon and took Shyra from him, setting the young girl on the ground. Squatting down in front of her, the ambassador went off in a stream of Mirraquian that Obi-Wan thought sounded rather aggressive. As did the sharp flicking of her tail. But it wasn’t his place to say anything. Besides, he believed that their language relied more on tone and body language than Basic did. 

Shyra ducked her head after a moment and gave a low whine to her sister. Which was apparently the remorse that Naiay was looking for as she leaned in close after that to rub her cheek against the youngling’s with a soft purr. 

Looking up at the two Jedi, she blinked slowly at them in a very feline show of appreciation even as she lightly ran her tail against Qui-Gon’s arm. “Gih, thank you. Eir.”

“There’s nothing to thank us for, Naiay. We did what we would for any youngling.” Qui-Gon was quick to reassure her and Obi-Wan was happy to let his Master deal with that so he could focus on ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder.

“Gih, she’s not used to the Na’pin...She didn’t know how dangerous it was. Eir.” Naiay was still apologetic as she spoke.

“All children must learn. We’re just glad that she wasn’t hurt.” Qui-Gon smiled a little at Naiay, trying to soothe her.

She gave a little purr as she smiled at Qui-Gon and then patted the ground. “Gih, sit with us and watch the next na’pin? Eir.”

Qui-Gon glanced at his Padawan to make sure that Obi-Wan was up to this before he nodded to Naiay. “We’d be delighted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, life is still a bit rough for me. But I'm doing what I can to keep working on this fic whenever I can. I have so much planned for this still.


	18. Leaving Mirraq

It was another full day before the matrons finally came to a decision about whether to join the Republic or not. As much as they should have used the time to relax, neither of the Jedi were really able to feel as if they could when they didn’t know if their mission had been a success or failure. Even Mirraq herself was surprisingly quiet as they waited on a decision to be made, as if she weren’t certain what her children were about to choose either.

Finally though, they had been summoned before the council again for the final decision. As long as they had taken to come to a decision, Qui-Gon feared the worst. Only for the Mirraqui matron to step forward and announce that they had finally reached agreement and that their peoples would be joining the Republic for the time being.

Naiay had explained at dinner that evening that she had shared memories of them keeping Shyra safe even while they were sparring with the matrons and that had helped them make a decision. It seemed they believed that if the Jedi were such good people, then the Republic must be worthwhile. Of course, Qui-Gon and his Padawan had both been surprised by the idea of sharing memories.

It seemed that was another thing that the sentience of the planet could allow. One’s strongest thoughts could be passed along to others. And all that Qui-Gon could do was pray that it only applied to when one was trying to share their thoughts or memories and not just something that happened due to proximity. 

Physical privacy wasn’t something that Jedi were terribly used to, in fact they were trained to not care about such things. However, mental privacy was a totally different matter. So long as it didn’t affect one’s missions, what one thought was theirs and theirs alone. The mere idea of someone else knowing the things he’d been thinking was frightening in a way he didn’t at all appreciate.

Mirraq had soothed his worries some, letting him know that the sharing was almost always done with intent to do so. That it only happened by accident between those who were mated. Which meant that he was safe, no one had been given access to any of the thoughts or dreams that had plagued him on this planet. That was one thing he was grateful to learn.

Thankfully, the Jedi Council had managed to set them up a transport sooner than later and they were able to finally leave Mirraq behind. Above that, they were finally able to reach the Force individually again. Which was relaxing beyond what Qui-Gon had expected. He had recognized he was on edge without being able to commune with the Force, but he hadn’t realized just how much so. 

His first meditation on the transport had left him feeling nearly intoxicated.

The feeling of the Force responding to him once again was powerful in a way that he hadn’t been expecting. Soothing as well, like a cool cloth on a sunburn, taking away the stinging emptiness that had been felt while they were working on Mirraq. He could once again draw in full deep breaths and not feel like he was drowning in his own emotions and thoughts.

And it seemed to be rather true for his Padawan as well since the younger man had spent nearly the entirety of their first day on the transport holed up in his cabin meditating. In fact, the young man seemed to be too deeply buried in his meditation to have even noticed the announcement for dinner. 

Qui-Gon was alright with him skipping a meal, as they’d had a pretty hearty breakfast with Naiay and her family before the transport arrived, but now that the young man had fully missed dinner, the older Jedi had decided Obi-Wan had meditated enough for the moment. A plate of food, as barely edible as space rations could be, was balanced in one hand and a bottle of water in the other as he walked through the ship to his Padawan’s room. 

The transport was small, but there were private beds for both Jedi and their pilots. Only the ‘fresher had to be shared, which was a luxury one couldn’t always rely on. 

Setting off the door chime to let Obi-Wan know someone was there, Qui-Gon frowned slightly as the seconds ticked on and there was no reply from his Padawan. He wasn’t worried per se, but more frustrated that the young man would be so careless as to bury himself that deeply in meditation when not in the safety of the Temple. Sighing softly, he tucked the bottle of water on his belt, grateful for the little lip meant for one’s thumb that allowed it to hang, if rather precariously, for the moment.

There was a requirement for all private transports that the Jedi took that stated that they needed to know the override codes for the doors in case of emergency. This time was no different and, as he’d already spent several hours with the Captain and her copilot, Qui-Gon wasted no time keying in the entry code to open the door.

Obi-Wan was sitting cross legged on the bed, and his Master had to commend him for not sitting on the metal floor for so many hours, deep in meditation. The young man’s breathing was slowed, almost beyond what most would consider safe levels for humans, but he was a Jedi and so that wasn’t too much of a worry to Qui-Gon.

Still, Obi-Wan needed to be more aware of his surroundings at least. Thankfully it had been a call for dinner and his caring Master at his door that he hadn’t heard and not an alert that they were under attack. Another soft sigh, barely audible even to the man who gave it, slipped from the Jedi Master as he crossed the room to set down the food and water on the tiny little table. The quarters were private, but not luxurious. 

That done, he stepped over to the low set bed and knelt down before his Padawan. The steel floor would grow to be a nuisance if he were forced to hold this position for a long time, but he didn’t plan to spend hours here like his Padawan had. Settled as comfortably as he’d be able to for now, Qui-Gon reached out through their training bond first, pushing lightly at him in an attempt to get his attention.

Normally Qui-Gon checking in with him that way while he was meditating frustrated the younger man, but right now, there was nothing being pushed back at him. Obi-Wan didn’t even care that his presence was desired by his Master right now, and Qui-Gon would not let that stand. It was one thing to meditate when one wasn’t needed elsewise, to do so at the expense of ignoring another without reason? Absolutely not.

This time, he physically reached out, hand landing lightly on the redhead’s left calf. “Obi-Wan.”

There was a faint twitch in the muscles beneath his hand, but there was no real response beyond that. Not even the Padawan’s breathing had changed to say that Obi-Wan was yet aware that he wasn’t alone. That meant they were going to have to do some more guided meditation so that he could be sure the younger man hadn’t lost himself in the Force. It was very rare for one as old as Obi-Wan to sink this far into themselves. Even in Temple those who meditated were aware when others came near them, let alone when they were touched.

Pulling in a deep breath, Qui-Gon let his eyes shut as he pushed his mind towards his Padawan. It wasn’t unheard of for a Master to break into a Padawan’s meditation, though it normally only happened whilst the Padawan was still learning how to achieve a well balanced meditation. With as skilled as Obi-Wan was, it was harder than it would have been with a youngling. But still, Qui-Gon was determined.

Using the Force to make his presence known to the redhead, he wasn’t interested in seeing what thoughts had caused such a deep trance. All he wanted was to pull Obi-Wan back to the here and now, back into the present so that whatever anxieties were bogging him down could be dealt with. 

He knew the moment that he had broken through as the muscles under his hand tensed and he heard the soft gasp that Obi-Wan gave, likely the first deep breath he’d taken in a while. Not yet pulling fully back into himself yet, Qui-Gon opened his eyes, looking up into his Padawan’s face. He waited a couple seconds, but finally those green eyes blinked open.

“Are you with me, Obi-Wan?” His voice was calm, soothing even, intended to help keep Obi-Wan grounded and give him no reason to pull away.

Watching the younger man blink at him a few times, Qui-Gon was somewhat surprised to see the pink that washed faintly over Obi-Wan’s cheeks. It seemed they would definitely have to invest some time in extra meditation practice if the younger man had fallen so deeply into the Force without meaning for it to have happened. After all, why else would his Padawan be blushing?

“Y-yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master.” Obi-Wan spoke softly, head tucking slightly as he sat there.

“You had me worried, my young Padawan…” He could feel the tiny flash of shame that flit through their training bond even though Obi-Wan had tried to close down on it and he decided that shame wasn’t something he was seeking at this moment. They could work on his Padawan’s training later, for now he was more worried about the young man eating and his voice turned slightly playful. “You missed dinner, I wasn’t sure if perhaps I’d been mistaken about you having made it on board.”

Obi-Wan gave a hesitant smile and shook his head, “No, Master, I got too caught up in my meditation and tuned everything else out.”

“So I noticed.” Qui-Gon was careful to not share his worry; neither through voice or their training bond. “Now, time to eat.”

The redhead swallowed, looking nervous in a way that his Master didn’t quite understand, but nodded all the same. “Yes, Master.”

Qui-Gon smiled a little bit at him before moving both his hands to the edge of the bed frame to brace against as he stood. Fetching the food and drink he’d brought, he held them out to his Padawan.

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan spoke softly as he took the plate and bottle.

And while Qui-Gon knew they shared a mind on how horrible space rations were, especially these more cheaply made ones, the younger man didn’t make a single complaint as he dug into his meal. Perhaps letting Obi-Wan skip meals wasn’t so good if he was going to scarf it away as if he were starving when given food after skipped meals.

Though, as he stood there, watching the younger man chow down on his provisions, Qui-Gon suddenly remembered the way that most younglings had a massive appetite after their first few deep meditations. Perhaps they needed the excess energy that the food offered after sinking too deeply into the Force. Dooku had explained it to him as simply being a higher use of energy than he was used to expending, so he wasn’t certain on that front.

Taking the plate from the younger man when Obi-Wan finished it, he moved to set the plate on the table again. “Drink, Padawan.”

The redhead immediately did as told, lifting the bottle to his lips and drinking deeply. At least he wasn’t having to argue with Obi-Wan about taking care of himself. Which made him more willing to believe that it had been an accident that the young man had let himself fall so fully into the Force. Thankfully, he’d been caught soon enough to draw him back to the present.

Stepping back over to the bed, Qui-Gon took a seat at the foot of the bed. “Obi-Wan, do you know why I was worried about your meditation?”

Obi-Wan took a few moments to answer him, either because he was very thirsty after his day spent meditating or because he wanted the time to think. “I remember Master Yoda said that it could be dangerous to meditate too deeply...but I didn’t think I was…”

“You weren’t dangerously deep yet, but you were getting there, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon did his best to keep his worry contained, having to consciously keep his voice calm.

“Was I, Master? That wasn’t the intent.” Obi-Wan’s wide eyed look proved his words truthful and Qui-Gon felt somewhat bad for having been annoyed with his Padawan.

Drawing in a slow deep breath, Qui-Gon nodded to his Padawan. “Indeed you were, my Padawan. If I’d left you alone, you might have gone so far that you could not be brought back to the present.”

Frowning slightly, Obi-Wan looked down at the bottle he still held, silent for several long moments before he looked back up to his Master. “Master Yoda never told us why it was dangerous. Just that it was.”

The brunet made himself close his eyes for a moment to avoid rolling his eyes. Of course his grand-Master hadn’t bothered to explain the reason that they warned the crechelings against meditating alone and even more so about going too far. There were times that he agreed with Master Yoda about someone not needing to know certain things. However, something that could be accidentally deadly if one didn’t know about it didn’t really strike him as something that should be glossed over. Even if he was rather certain it was all because the tiny Jedi had been trying to avoid scaring the crechelings.

“My Master saved me from a deep meditation shortly after he took me on as his Padawan. He told me that as Jedi, we are trained how to reach out and touch the Force, how to bend just a little bit of it to our wills. But that we cannot surrender to the Force. If we give into it fully, it will consume us entirely, reclaim us back to the Force itself.” Qui-Gon had been rather shocked by that news as a young Padawan, but he was decently sure that Obi-Wan could handle it better than he had.

And his certainty proved correct as Obi-Wan hadn’t started to cry the way the brunet had as a child. Instead, the redhead just seemed to be taking a few moments to collect his thoughts and process what he’d just been told by his Master. Rushing his Padawan through his thoughts had never worked before and Qui-Gon couldn’t imagine it doing any good now. So instead, he just gave Obi-Wan time to think, sat still and just waited to see what his Padawan would come up with.

As he waited, he felt a flash of guilt and shame through their training bond again. Qui-Gon pushed a wave of calm at his Padawan, not quite understanding the upset that Obi-Wan was feeling. The shame wasn’t that surprising, Obi-Wan had a bad habit of internalizing any mistakes he made as failures instead of mistakes, but the guilt was perplexing. What did the young man have to be guilty over?

“I’m sorry, Master. I’ll be more careful in the future.” His voice was low and his head had tipped down again, the posture one that Qui-Gon recognized from every mistake the redhead had made for the first year or so of being his Padawan.

He had to force back a sigh of exasperation over Obi-Wan’s response to his explanation. “One cannot avoid something if they do not know that it is dangerous, Obi-Wan.”

“But Master Yoda had told us all not to go too deep. So I should have been mindful and-”

“Everyone makes mistakes, Obi-Wan. Now that you understand the danger, you can learn where that line is.” Reaching out to grasp his Padawan’s shoulder, he gave a soft smile as he pushed another wave of calm through their training bond. “We can work on it together. I can help you find how deep you can go without needing someone to lure you back to the present.”

Again, the redhead’s cheeks flushed faintly as he shook his head. “I can figure it out, Master. I’ll be more mindful in the future.”

Part of Qui-Gon wanted to argue with Obi-Wan, wanted to push the matter and get his Padawan to agree to the help. Another part of him recognized that he couldn’t make decisions for the younger man no matter how badly he wished to. Especially when his desire to keep Obi-Wan safe came from a selfish place that wished to spare himself the pain of losing his Padawan. 

From a place that had no space in a Jedi’s heart.

“Alright. If you change your mind, just let me know.” He gave another squeeze to his Padawan’s shoulder before he moved to stand and fetch the plate from the table. “Finish your water and get some sleep. I know neither of us slept well the last few nights.”

Even if he was sure that it was for different reasons, they’d both spent the last couple nights on Mirraq restlessly. It seemed one or the other of them had been awake at all times. Not that either had been willing to discuss why that was. Still, they could both use some rest.

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan raised the bottle towards his lips again, but froze before he could take a drink. “I’ll see you breakfast?”

Qui-Gon paused at the door to give a tender smile to his Padawan and nodded. “Of course. Now get a good night’s rest, my Padawan.”

Obi-Wan smiled back at him. “Yes, Master.”

Giving a nod, Qui-Gon slipped out of his Padawan’s rooms and off to the mess hall to wash up Obi-Wan’s plate. That done, he went to the fresher for a quick sonic shower before heading to his own room for the night. He hoped he’d finally rest better than he had the last couple nights.

That silent prayer seemed to be answered as he did sleep solidly finally, with only a faint memory of having another of the dreams that had plagued him on Mirraq. Hopefully they would slow back to their former once in a great while appearances again now that they were free of that planet’s influence.

He’d only made it partway to the mess when the copilot stopped him.

“Master Qui-Gon?” The lean young man spoke not quite hesitantly, but without real confidence either.

“Yes, Davron?”

“There’s a transmission for you from the Jedi Council.” 

Qui-Gon gave a subtle nod of understanding and gestured with one hand. “Lead the way.”

“Yes, Sir.” The pilot gave a faint bow then turned to lead the way to the bridge.

“Patching you through, Sir.” The Captain tapped a couple buttons with one hand as she pointed to a terminal next to the door to the bridge. 

It wouldn’t be exactly a private conversation, but she was doing what she could for the time being. And Davron had left the bridge once Qui-Gon was through the door. They were trying at the very least, and he did appreciate it even if it wasn’t needed.

The screen lit up to show Master Windu waiting for him and Qui-Gon nodded a welcome that would have been a bow in more open areas. “What’s happened?”

“What makes you assume something has happened?” Windu’s voice held no real inflection, leaving his question strangely neutral instead of sassy as most would have sounded.

“We have another four days and we will be back at Coruscant. If you are contacting us now, then something has changed.” Which, in Qui-Gon’s experience, meant that his plan to recuperate from their last mission on the trip home wasn’t going to happen.

Windu nodded at Qui-Gon’s words, never one to bother with a ruse, likely only curiosity in desire to understand his fellow Jedi had prompted his original question. “You’re being rerouted. We’ll do a holocall in six hours for your mission debrief on Mirraq.”

“Thank you for the time to get our reports finished.” Qui-Gon really did appreciate the heads up from Mace. “Where are we going next?”

“We’re sending you to Naboo. The Trade Federation has delegates heading to Naboo now, the Senate has requested that we send Jedi to help in their trade agreement. You and your Padawan are the closet, you’re only a little over thirty hours out. Anyone else would take at least seventy two.”

“I understand. What role are we to play on this mission?”

“You are to make sure the agreement is fair to both sides. To be sure this doesn’t turn into unnecessary deaths.” 

Mace didn’t appear concerned and those were simple enough instructions, helping soothe Qui-Gon’s worry about whether Obi-Wan would be ready for the mission. Which meant they weren’t going to be watching a dignitary on either side. Normally missions were easier to complete without that being an added complication.

Qui-Gon nodded his understanding. “Alright. Is there anything else?”

“That will do until the debrief.” 

“We’ll speak to you then, Master Windu.” Qui-Gon gave another attempted bow of respect, uncertain just how private their conversation was.

Mace nodded at him and then the screen went dark.

With a sigh, he turned to the Captain. “We’ll be redirecting-”

She kept her eyes on her control panels, fingers tapping away at keys. “To Naboo, Sir. I’m prepping the jump now.”

“Thank you, Amelany,” That got the Captain’s attention, her focus finally turning to him; likely for the fact he remembered her name.

“Your welcome, Sir.” 

With that, she turned back to her controls and Qui-Gon slipped into the hallway. He had a Padawan to find and a mission report to finish in the next few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is still kinda rough, but I'm pushing through.
> 
> There is now a tumblr Askblog for the characters of this fic/universe. Come see us and ask us any questions you have at https://you-cannot-go-against-the-force.tumblr.com/


	19. Leaving Naboo

As much as he enjoyed going on missions with his Master, Obi-Wan would have been happier if they’d actually made it back to Coruscant after leaving Mirraq. Of course, he didn’t voice his annoyance at the new mission. Though that had more to do with the fact he didn’t want Qui-Gon to know about how off balance he still felt even after his day of meditation. Honestly, the meditation hadn't done half as much as he had hoped it would and he had been looking forward to the time at the Temple to center himself again. 

Alas, life had, as it tended to, happened again.

Not only had the negotiations failed to even start, but then they’d been trying to survive this mission. At least the Gungans had proven to be helpful; even if it’d taken a bit of Force manipulation from his Master to get a transport. It would have made him happier if they could have just walked away and left Jar Jar behind in the Gungans’ hidden city, but as usual, his Master just had to take in the life forms that were in need. Which meant they had a bumbling fool trailing after them for no real reason beyond Qui-Gon having too much compassion.

They had at least managed to rescue the queen and get her off Naboo. The blockade had of course tried to stop them and now they were headed to some little Outer Rim planet. Obi-Wan might have been the one to suggest it, but that had only been because Tatooine was the safest of the options they had within trusted range of the damaged hyperdrive.

Though, now that they were on their way, coordinates put in and many hours to spare before they’d reach Tatooine, Obi-Wan had the time to focus on his Master. And for once, the attention he was giving was reasonable and excusable. Nothing inappropriate to be found in his actions even as he reached out to grab Qui-Gon’s arm before he could continue on down towards the sleeping quarters the Jedi had been given.

“Come to medical with me…” A request more than an order, but the hand on Qui-Gon’s arm still made it clear that he wouldn’t take ‘no’ easily.

One dark brow lifted slightly as Qui-Gon looked down at him and Obi-Wan suspected that the older man was considering refusing him, but finally, the brunet gave a subtle nod. “Lead the way then.”

Obi-Wan smiled slightly before turning to find their way to the small medical wing. He wasn’t sure exactly how well stocked the ship was, but he hoped with it being the Queen’s starship that it would at least hold all the basics. If not, he’d make do with what he had.

Walking into the medical bay, Obi-Wan gestured at the single bed with one hand. “Please sit, Master.”

Qui-Gon did as asked, silently perching on the foot of the bed as he watched Obi-Wan start to dig through storage compartments, before finally asking, “Looking for something in particular, my Padawan?”

“Just checking what we have before I start.” Obi-Wan didn’t even bother to look back at his Master as he opened another compartment.

“And what exactly are you planning to start doing?” 

Qui-Gon’s voice usually would have held at least a hint of amusement, but instead his tone was flat, controlled beyond what was necessitated by the current conversation. It was yet another thing that pointed to Obi-Wan being correct and that the older man had been injured during their rescue of the Queen. Now, he just had to figure out exactly what had happened.

“You’re hurt, Master.”

“I’m fine.”

Spinning about to face his Master, Obi-Wan’s green eyes were narrowed in annoyance. “Lying to me doesn’t change the fact you’re hurt.” Qui-Gon’s lips parted as if he were about to argue again and Obi-Wan just pushed on. “And if we’re going somewhere that might be dangerous for the Queen, then we need to get you healed up before we get in more trouble than we can handle and we fail to keep her safe.”

Blinking a couple times at the sharpness of his Padawan’s voice, if only because the redhead was usually so careful about how he spoke, Qui-Gon was silent for a few more moments before he finally gave a nod and scooted himself further up on the bed. “Your logic is sound, Padawan.”

The tension in Obi-Wan’s body bled out and he was sure his relief at Qui-Gon’s agreement was clear in their training bond, but he had good reason for that right now. “Alright. So...what happened?”

He knew that it had happened when they first took on the droids to rescue Queen Amidala, the flash of pain through their training bond had told him that much, but they hadn’t had time to deal with it until now. Now, he needed Qui-Gon to be honest with him if he actually wanted to fix whatever it was. A sprained knee or ankle would take a short Force healing session, especially if they worked together on it, but if it was something worse, he had to figure out what to do. Neither of them were particularly gifted when it came to Force healing to start with.

The brunet sighed heavily, but lifted his left leg up and started working on taking that boot off as gently as he could. Not that it kept him from giving a little hiss of pain as the ankle was flexed when he pulled the boot off all the way. That at least gave Obi-Wan a good starting point and he stepped over close to his Master, reaching out towards Qui-Gon’s ankle. Though he stopped just before he actually made contact.

“I need to check for damage, Master.” His voice was apologetic, and even if one were deaf they would be able to read it easily in his eyes.

“I understand.” Qui-Gon dropped his boot to the floor next to the bed and drew in a deep breath, bracing himself for the redhead’s touch.

Obi-Wan moved the last little bit, fingers landing as gently as possible against Qui-Gon’s skin, breathing out an apology at the wince his Master gave. Still, he knew that they needed to deal with this before they reached Tatooine. If they did, then things might go well enough. If they didn’t? Everything would go wrong as it did everytime they were down on their luck.

“Don’t worry, Obi-Wan. Just focus on the task before you.” His voice was flat, the words carefully formed to hide the pain; as if it weren’t plenty obvious to the younger man through their training bond.

“Yes, Master.” The answer to the gentle rebuke fell instantly from Obi-Wan’s lips as he did as told.

Eyes falling closed, he pulled upon the Force, focusing on the ankle he held, looking to see what damage had been done. He had expected a sprain or perhaps a small cut somehow, but severed muscle wasn’t quite what he had been ready for. That was not something that could be fully fixed in just a few minutes. 

Obi-Wan was thankful, however, that it wasn’t completely severed. It was torn most of the way through, but there was still some tissue connected, which would make healing easier at the very least. Not that it would be easy, just slightly easier. 

Sighing softly, he gently released Qui-Gon’s ankle and stepped back. “I need to get some bacta. And for you to lay on your stomach for me so I can get a good angle on that ankle.”

Qui-Gon gave a silent nod, a faint grimace on his face as he moved his leg giving away more than the older Jedi probably appreciated. So Obi-Wan made no comment, he didn’t even give his Master a look, as he turned back to the supply compartments to dig out a couple of the syringes of bacta he’d seen earlier. Snagging a bottle of disinfectant from another cabinet, the redhead stepped back over next to the bed. He set down the syringes on the edge of the bed and sanitized his hands quickly.

“Alright, I’m going to have to touch you again.” Obi-Wan’s voice was soft and apologetic again, hating that he had to hurt Qui-Gon in order to help him.

"I understand." Qui-Gon's voice was still controlled and flat, but the older man also pushed a wave of calm at his Padawan.

Obi-Wan appreciated the attempt at soothing him, but he still detested the idea of having to hurt his Master. Even if it would help him heal in the long run. Pouring some of the sanitizer over the back of Qui-Gon's ankle, he then set the bottle to the side and plucked up one of the syringes.

"I'm sorry, Master, this is going to hurt." Obi-Wan curled one hand carefully, gently, around Qui-Gon's ankle to support it and help himself find the best place to inject. 

"I know." Arms crossed under his head, Obi-Wan almost missed the way those long fingers had curled into the sleeves of his robe. 

Obi-Wan’s face was almost expressionless as he focused himself on the task ahead of him. Pulling at the Force, he sought out the best place to inject the bacta. Once he made a decision, he flicked the cap off the syringe and prepared himself for this, too aware that it was going to hurt his Master to do this.

He knew that Qui-Gon was well trained in self control, as all Jedi were, but Soren had always told him that distracting someone from what you were doing made it easier to do what was needed. Now he just hoped that she was right about it. And since the brunet did seem to be rather tense at the moment, he hoped it would help him get this done with the least amount of pain for his Master.

“I wonder what kind of teas might be on board…” Just before he finished speaking, he struck the needle through skin and into the damaged muscles, slowly depressing the plunger.

Qui-Gon sucked in a sharp breath and his shoulders tensed, but beyond that, the Jedi Master gave no real reaction to the needle. In fact, he took the bait of distraction that his Padawan had offered him.

“I’m hoping for Sapir.” His voice was tight, but he didn’t move even as Obi-Wan slowly injected the bacta into his ankle.

“I’ve heard that Naboo doesn’t import much Sapir, so I’m not sure if they have it.” Obi-Wan did his best to sound like his normal self rather than expressing the regret he felt for having hurt his Master.

“Would be my luck, hmm?” Though Qui-Gon’s voice was still tight, that hint of playfulness soothed part of the worry the younger man had.

“Usually, Master, you have bad luck followed by better luck.” Whether that actually had anything to do with luck or with Obi-Wan being more aware of his Master after bad things happened wasn’t something to be pondered on at this moment. “So it is a possibility they have some on board, since you’ve already injured yourself on this mission.”

Qui-Gon gave a faint snort at Obi-Wan’s words. “I’d rather my good luck go to keeping the Queen alive and safe.”

The redhead couldn’t deny that his Master had a good point since they were headed to a Hutt controlled planet. As he finished pressing the plunger down, Obi-Wan gave a soundless sigh, trusting that Qui-Gon would be oblivious to it facing away from him as he was. Finally drawing the needle from the older man’s skin, he relaxed a bit.

“Let me get rid of this needle and then I think together we should be able to help the bacta along.” He didn’t want to insinuate that Qui-Gon wouldn’t be capable of handling the mission whilst injured, even though he’d been the only one to notice his Master’s injury to start with, so he left it at that as he released his Master’s ankle.

Stepping over and dropping the syringe in the used sharps container, he wasn’t too surprised to hear the older man shifting around. And by the time he’d turned back to the bed, Qui-Gon was sitting up once more. His Master was never fond of looking weak or injured, even when he was, and Obi-Wan supposed he should have expected that to be true even though they were the only ones in the medical bay at the moment.

Qui-Gon held out his hands, palm up, towards Obi-Wan in easy acceptance of the Padawan’s suggestion that they should work together at healing him. “Shall we?”

Obi-Wan took the last couple steps to close the distance between him and the brunet and he gave a little nod as his own hands lifted to settle atop Qui-Gon’s, palm to palm. “Yes, Master.”

Closing his eyes, the redhead focused on the Force, still quite happy to have it as his reach again. Healing was easier done on planets with plenty of growing things as they could siphon just a little bit of energy from everything around them, but with enough training, it was just as doable in space. It just took more effort on Obi-Wan’s part. Not that healing had ever really been his gift to start with.

He felt Qui-Gon’s fingers curl up against his wrists, gripping at him for a moment before the older man could force himself to relax again. Obi-Wan knew it was thanks to the awkward feeling of the muscles being forced to heal much faster than they naturally would. It tended to burn and made one feel as if there was too much pressure under the skin as the muscles knit together. But at least this bit of pain and awkwardness would leave Qui-Gon in better shape to complete the mission. Which is the part that Obi-Wan forced himself to focus on, not letting himself pass along the upset over hurting his Master along their training bond. Or at least he tried not to let it leak through.

It had been a while since they’d started working on Qui-Gon’s injury, though Obi-Wan couldn’t say exactly how long, when the door to the medical bay slid open, breaking his concentration. Blinking a couple times, he looked to see who had come in, recognizing the woman as being one of the Queen’s handmaidens.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” The young woman still walked further into the room, her left arm held up close to her chest in a way that spoke of an injury.

And Obi-Wan wasn’t the only one to notice how she held her arm, as Qui-Gon dropped his hands from the Padawan’s and twisted a little to look at the handmaiden a little more. “Are you alright?”

Heading towards the storage cabinets, the young lady gave a slight shrug. “I tripped and didn’t catch myself very well.”

“We are trained for basic medical, would you like one of us to take a look at it?” 

Again, compassion seemed to be ruling the older Jedi and Obi-Wan tried to find his own even if he knew that her arrival meant that Qui-Gon wouldn’t finish healing himself yet. And Obi-Wan wasn’t nearly as good at healing as the older man was, meaning that he had to wait for his Master to be willing to help him with the healing. Already he felt rather worn down from trying to manipulate the Force in a way that didn’t come naturally to him.

“I can move it, and there’s no numbness so I believe it’s just sore. But thank you.” She began to search through the cabinets with her good hand.

“What are you looking for? I’ve been through all the supplies and might be able to help you find it.” Obi-Wan stepped away from Qui-Gon, silently willing the older man to stay where he was on the bed.

The young lady gave the slightest of smiles to Obi-Wan, “I’m just looking for a brace.”

A faint grimace played over the redhead’s lips as he shook his head slightly. “There’s no braces stocked.”

“You’re sure?” Her brows drew together as she frowned at the cabinet she was digging in.

“I’m sorry, but yes, I’m sure.” The closest he’d seen was gauze and tape and that wouldn’t do much to immobilize the way a brace would have for her.

She gave a soft groan of frustration, the sound barely audible to the young Jedi standing but a couple feet from her. “I see. Thank you.”

Obi-Wan watched as she shut the door to the compartment she’d been digging in and turned back towards the door, arm held securely against her chest. It was obviously very sore if she were being so careful to keep it stationary and he hated to see anyone hurt needlessly. Looking to his Master, he tipped his head in question, not wanting to offer up Qui-Gon to heal her if he weren’t up for it. The redhead would have volunteered himself if not for the fact he was already tired from healing Qui-Gon, and he hadn’t even finished that completely.

Sapphire eyes were warm as the older man smiled at Obi-Wan and nodded before looking to the handmaiden. “Please let us help you, Miss.”

She paused, seeming to think over the request that Qui-Gon had made of her before she finally turned to look at the two Jedi. “Padme is fine. And I wouldn’t want you to waste energy over something so small as a sprained wrist.”

“If it were a problem, I wouldn’t have offered, Padme.” Qui-Gon’s voice was soft and kind, encouraging her to listen to him even if he weren’t trying to manipulate her mind with the Force.

Padme looked between the two men for a long moment, clearly considering their offer before she finally stepped closer to them. “Alright, thank you.”

Qui-Gon gave her a soft smile and held out a hand, palm up. “Your welcome, we’re glad to help.”

She looked a little hesitant, but she’d heard of those who were Force sensitive being able to heal and so she slowly laid her wrist in Qui-Gon’s hold. As if fingers curled gently around the joint, she never even winced, only the tiniest hitch in her breathing gave way the pain she was in. And as she was attempting to hide it, neither of the Jedi said anything about her reactions. It was easy enough to act as though they hadn’t noticed it in favor of letting her keep her composure. 

Obi-Wan was glad that Qui-Gon had offered to heal her wrist and he stood politely to the side, letting his Master work in silence. She didn’t seem too keen on trying to hold a conversation at the moment either, so he had no problem with letting Qui-Gon have as much focus on the Force as he could. Even for his Master it seemed to be harder to heal when so deep in hyperspace.

Eventually, Qui-Gon’s hand opened again, releasing the young woman’s wrist. “Try moving it now.”

Padme nodded and curled her fingers slowly. She gave the tiniest little breath of relief and started to make slow, careful circles with her wrist, a smile slowly taking her lips.

Looking up into Qui-Gon’s eyes, she nodded. “Thank you, it’s much better.”

“I’m glad we could help.” Qui-Gon gave a dip of his own head, a respectful response to her appreciation.

She smiled at the two of them, glancing between them a couple times before she took a step back from the medical bed. “I should get going, Her Highness will want dinner soon, I ought to go make sure it’s ready. Thank you, again.”

Padme gave a slight bow before turning and heading out of medical again, leaving the boys alone in the room again. Obi-Wan turned to his Master and held out his hands toward the older man.

“Shall we finish with your ankle, Master?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything not covered in the fic from here on in regards to scenes in The Phantom Menace are due to things being the same as they were in the movie. I do not wish to get in trouble by typing out what happens in the movie itself.


	20. A Night on Tatooine

Their first day on Tatooine hadn’t gone nearly as well as Obi-Wan would have hoped for. Not only were they unable to get the hyperdrive thanks to a lack of non-republic funds, but then a sandstorm had blown in. Which had lengthened out their stay on this backwater planet beyond what any of them had hoped for. Even the Queen had seemed to be worried about the storm and what it might mean for Qui-Gon, Padme and Jar Jar. 

Obi-Wan had spent most of his time working on the hyperdrive, trying to get it fully disconnected so that it would be pulled and already dumped outside by the time they had a new one to put in. It had been a good way to distract himself and ignore the danger that his Master might be in. Then again, it wasn’t something that should be worrying him as much as it was and so it seemed better to distract himself and stay busy than to let his mind ponder on things he shouldn’t be worried about.

As quickly as he knew the new hyperdrive would go in, taking out the old one was exhausting work. Not because of the connections themselves, but because he was doing his best to avoid causing anything to backleak into the ship itself as he disassembled it. While he knew what he was doing, as every Jedi was trained on mechanics in case of emergencies such as this, it also wasn’t Obi-Wan’s favorite pastime. 

It was messy and he’d had to go so far as to ditch his robe and outer tunics so that they weren’t all horribly stained when they still had a week’s worth of travel to get back to Coruscant. At least one tunic could be set aside specifically to work on anything else that might go wrong mechanically before they got to Coruscant. It seemed better than having every single outfit he had with him stained up over this.

As he got pieces disconnected, the R2 unit helping watch for anything that human eyes might miss, Obi-Wan hefted the outside and tossed them out the main hangar door. Captain Panaka and his men could deal with the disposal as far as he was concerned. They ought to be happy enough having someone who was mechanically knowledgeable enough to switch the drives out.

By the time he had finished getting all the parts and pieces tossed out in the sand, the double suns were already setting again. Thankfully, installation of the new hyperdrive wouldn’t require all the extra care to avoid leaking anything dangerous into the ship. The new one would have all sealed components and Obi-Wan looked forward to that and the likelihood that he wouldn’t end up so covered in the lubricants and fluids used in the drive again.

Going to his room, he was quick to gather a clean set of clothes before heading to the ‘fresher. Sonic showers weren’t his preferred option, but it was what was available on most ships. So it had to be good enough. It just always left his skin feeling slightly raw and almost chaffed from the vibrations, but it was better than smearing random grease and such all over his bedding that evening. 

Once done with his shower, he headed for the dining hall, hoping to make it in to grab a ration bar or two and disappear again before they started dinner for the Queen. Alas, as everything had since the landed on Mirraq, nothing seemed to go his way. The Queen and her handmaidens were already seated at the table when he stepped into the mess hall along with the Captain of her guard and Obi-Wan just barely hid his wince as he came to a stop just inside the door.

“Apologies, Your Highness, I was just going to grab a couple ration bars.” He gave a subtle bow to the seated Queen who had looked up at his entrance.

Dark eyes watched him for a moment before she gave a slight smile. “We would never refuse our savior a seat at our table.”

Blinking almost owlishly at the Queen a couple times, Obi-Wan considered refusing her offer for a moment. However, his training in diplomacy kicked in after a moment and he reminded himself that it wouldn’t do to give any slight to the Queen when they were trying to make sure she made it to Coruscant safely.

Drawing in a deep breath, the redhead bowed to the Queen a little more deeply before he stepped forward to take one of the empty seats. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

She smiled a little more as he joined them before she turned her focus back to the food on her plate. Obi-Wan served himself up a plate, though he was careful to take a portion no larger than what he saw on anyone else’s plates, and began to dig in. He had to remind himself to eat slower than he naturally wanted to after spending so long working on removing the hyperdrive. It wouldn’t do to come across as rude, so he tried to match his timing to those at the table so that he didn’t lower the Queen’s view of himself, and thus his Master.

Obi-Wan didn’t mind small talk, and was rather good at it usually. With the Queen, he wasn’t quite as sure what might be inappropriate to mention and so he tried to make it through dinner with just a few short comments when they seemed to be expected of him. It seemed to work well enough to start with, but his luck just couldn’t last. Of course it couldn’t.

“You and Master Jinn are close, hmm?” 

The Queen’s words made Obi-Wan choke slightly on his food, though he hoped he’d hidden it well with a quick clearing of his throat and a heavy swallow that made him realize he needed to chew better. Snagging his glass of water, he took a quick sip before looking to the Queen with a carefully crafted smile on his lips.

“He’s my Master.” The Queen watched him with a seriousness that he almost felt as if she saw through him more than she should have been able to. “We are around each other practically twenty-four/seven. Of course we’re close.”

Her gaze snapped over to one of her guards for but a heartbeat before focusing on Obi-Wan again. “We see. The Jedi ways are not something that we are taught on Naboo.”

“The Jedi ways aren’t really taught to anyone besides the Jedi, Your Highness.” Obi-Wan spoke gently, trying to make sure she understood that he saw no fault in her lack of knowledge; it was the fault of the Order not hers. “I know of very few who know much about the Order without having been part of it to start.”

She looked at him intently for a moment before she nodded, seeming to accept what he had said as she turned her attention to Panaka. “We look forward to Padme returning tomorrow.”

“We all do, Your Highness.” The Captain nodded to her as he spoke, and Obi-Wan filed his tone and the solemn nods the rest of the Queen’s handmaidens gave away to consider at a later date.

It could be that they were all so used to being together that they felt somewhat off balance the way he did with Qui-Gon being out on the planet on his own. Padme and Jar Jar did not count as back up to his Master and Obi-Wan couldn’t help the way he worried. Though he had been careful to keep that to himself, keeping his bond with the older Jedi carefully locked down so as to not distract Qui-Gon.

Finishing off his meal, Obi-Wan took care of his dishes before bidding the Queen and her entourage goodnight. Though it wasn’t to his quarters that he headed quite yet, instead going up to the bridge to await a check in call from his Master. It was usual for at least one check in per every twenty four hours when they had to separate for missions and so he suspected it would be coming in soon enough. 

And while his quarters would be just as private, if not more so, it would also let him watch the stars for a little bit. The room that he and Qui-Gon had been given on the ship lacked any view ports thanks to being towards the center of the ship rather than on the hull, and Obi-Wan was happy to take a little time to stargaze when he had nothing else to do. The ability to just float as he watched the stars, picking out designs among them that others may or may not ever notice, was nearly as soothing as meditating currently. And he was less likely to miss the call from his Master if he weren’t meditating.

Still, he jumped ever so faintly when his communicator blipped.

Of all the things for his Master to be focused on for their call, Obi-Wan hadn’t expected it to be a midi-chlorian count on the youngling who’d offered them a safe place during the sandstorm. Still, he’d done as asked and ran it. Though he wasn’t sure if he were more shocked by the boy’s count or by just how easily Qui-Gon accepted it. Either way, it wasn’t like they had the money to buy the boy from his owner. They were having to take a risk on a race as it was just to get a hyperdrive, let alone anything else.

So he really didn’t understand Qui-Gon’s worry about the boy. After all, it wasn’t like they could try to liberate him for the Order or anything. Especially not with the Queen in their care. They couldn’t risk the current mission over a child that the Council wasn’t even aware of. Maybe Qui-Gon could make a request of the Council to try to send someone for the child at a later date. For now, none of it mattered and Obi-Wan couldn’t help the bit of frustration that clung to him over his Master being too easily distracted because of his compassion.

Bidding his Master a good night, the Padawan headed for the room he and Qui-Gon had been given. A decent night of sleep would be good for him as well, and as physically tired as he was after dealing with the hyperdrive, he didn’t think that would be much of a problem for him. Thankfully, he’d showered before dinner so he didn’t have to worry about that right now.

As he keyed in the code to open the door to his quarters, the Jedi gave a yawn so wide he questioned if it might unhinge his jaw. At least he was alone in this hallway, so he didn’t need to worry about anyone seeing him in this particular state. His ability to be a functional human failed when he was this tired and he didn’t need to be caught saying anything inappropriate. One never knew how sensitive others could be to sarcasm.

Stepping in past the door, Obi-Wan unfastened his belt and outer tunics and set them to the side along with his boots. Though he did take his ‘saber with him as he stepped over and flopped on one of the sleep couches. The weapon was placed in the corner against the wall so it’d be close in the unfortunate happenstance that he needed it. Rolling onto his side, he pulled the pillow in close with one hand and the blanket over himself with the other. 

Sighing heavily as he finally let himself feel the tiredness of the day, Obi-Wan nuzzled in against the pillow as he wriggled a little bit to find a comfortable position for the night. It was then, as he pressed his cheek harder against the pillow and a faint scent wafted up from it, that he realized he’d crawled into the wrong sleeper. Normally he slept farther from the door when he and Qui-Gon shared quarters while on missions, but the bed closer to the door had been shorter this time and so they had switched beds. 

Out of habit, he’d just moved to take the bed farthest from the door this time and now he should move.

He knew he _should_ , but it would take so much more energy than he really wanted to spend right now. Besides, would it really matter if he spent one night in this bed instead? What harm could it really cause? They could always clean the bedding if Qui-Gon had a complaint about it. He’d seen one of the handmaidens using a sonic baton on the Queen’s comforter earlier that day, so he knew that there was one available for cleaning at the very least.

After a few moments fighting with his guilt and a couple more painfully large yawns, Obi-Wan gave up and just closed his eyes. If it was a problem, it could be dealt with when his Master returned to the ship.

The bed dipped behind him and Obi-Wan automatically reached for his ‘saber. His fingers had barely touched the metal of his weapon when a body, taller and broader than his own, settled alongside him and he froze. Though, before he could actually say anything, lips pressed against the side of his neck, dragging along the skin. The scratch of a beard told him all he needed to know about who was behind him even before the older man could speak.

“Waiting for me, Padawan?” The words were playful, but low as they were whispered against Obi-Wan’s ear and the young Jedi couldn’t help the shiver that ran through him.

There were so many ways he could answer his Master’s question, but instead of voicing any of them, he bit his lower lip and stayed silent. Feeling one of those powerful arms settle over him, he didn’t have it in him to even try not to lean back against Qui-Gon’s body. And even though it was through so many layers of clothing, he adored the feeling of the other man pressed against him.

It was almost exactly the way he’d woken up that one morning on Mirraq, but this time… 

Oh this time he wasn’t the only one awake, he didn’t have to curb his desire, not when Qui-Gon was the one who started it all. He gave a shuddering breath as he let himself relax into the strong body behind him, drawing his hand back from the ‘saber in the corner. Instead, he reached up and back, fingers finding the older man’s silken hair, needing to touch Qui-Gon.

His breath caught when Qui-Gon’s fingers found the part in his undertunic, dragging tenderly down the flesh and parting the cloth further. He tipped his head lightly, giving his Master more access to his neck. Which the older man wasted no time in taking advantage of, lips and teeth playing against sensitive skin in a way that caused the redhead to give the tiniest of moans.

Wriggling a little bit, pushing back closer to the older man, Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the next moan he gave, this one a little more throaty, as he found himself pressed just right against his Master to feel just how aroused the brunet was already. Rolling his hips back against the older man earned him one of those low growls that he knew would forever be burned into his memory. Qui-Gon’s hand also kept sliding lower, Obi-Wan’s tunic finally falling fully open and allowing those fingers to tease along the edge of his pants.

Head turning, he was grateful to the way his beloved Master understood his request without any more effort on his part, warm lips pressing to his own easily. He started to rock his hips back against Qui-Gon’s as they kissed, his fingers tightening in the other’s hair as he felt himself stiffening within his trousers easily. Oh how he hungered for Qui-Gon’s touch, and yet, as impatient as he felt, Obi-Wan didn’t rush the older man. Instead, he was willing to just see where the brunet would take this.

Those large fingers finally gave up on dragging teasingly along the edge of his trousers and instead dipped under the waistband, seeking out tender flesh. He was appreciative of their kiss keeping him more or less silent; that whine that had slipped from his throat swallowed down by Qui-Gon. The motion of his hips stuttered for a moment when his Master’s fingers brushed oh so gently against his cock.

As much as he loved the feeling of Qui-Gon’s lips against his own, Obi-Wan still turned his head just enough to break their kiss, whispering out a tight plea, “More... _please_ , Master.”

A soft chuckle rumbled in the older man’s throat before Qui-Gon brushed one more quick kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips. “I’ve got you, Padawan.”

This time, Obi-Wan’s whimper wasn’t so hidden when that perfectly large hand dove deeper under his clothing so that those long fingers could wrap snugly around his length. Green eyes fell closed as pleasure washed through him in a stronger wave than he’d expected. Hips pushing forward into the hand on him, the redhead gave a soft moan. 

Though it was the push back against Qui-Gon and that thick length that pressed against him in return that stole his breath, the following moan coming out shaky and soft. He so badly wanted, _needed_ , more from his beloved Master right now. And while there were still several layers of clothing between them, Obi-Wan couldn’t help the way he thought of how amazing it would be to actually become one with the older man.

While part of him was nervous about it, especially after seeing just how big Qui-Gon was when aroused thanks to that mission on Mirraq, the bigger part of him _craved_ to be taken by the older man. As a Jedi, there was little that Obi-Wan really had claim to, that he could give to someone for he owned little. But his body...that was his and his alone to decide what to do with. And he would happily give his body to Qui-Gon without a second thought.

The mere thought of being taken, claimed, _owned_ , by the older Jedi was enough to cause him to twitch in Qui-Gon’s grip.

“Please…” His lips moved without him meaning to speak, his voice coming out nearly cracked with his need.

“Shh, my Padawan,” Qui-Gon spoke softly and nuzzled at the younger man’s jaw, dropping a couple soft kisses. “I’ve got you, just relax…”

Disobeying such a request wasn’t possible for the redhead. Instead, he surrendered himself to Qui-Gon, letting himself revel in the feeling of being stroked slowly. The hand in that silken hair tightened again, drawing forth a rumble of pleasure from the brunet and the older man pushed his hips forward against Obi-Wan’s rear, grinding firmly.

Biting his lower lip, Obi-Wan forced himself to stay quiet, to not let out the plea for more that so badly wanted to escape his throat. As good as it felt to have Qui-Gon stroking him, he also wanted to give himself fully to the older man. But right now, he couldn’t find it in him to disobey his beloved either, and so he did his best to relax and just enjoy what the brunet was willing to give him.

His pleasure was slowly mounting as Qui-Gon’s hand slid along his length, his breath coming out as shaky moans and the occasional whimper that he would be embarrassed by if he were of a more sound mind. Right now, the pleasure and the feeling of his beloved Master pressed so close to him was all that he could spare any thought for. All he wished was that there was less cloth between them, that he could feel that large body pressed tight to him, skin to skin, no barriers keeping them apart.

Nearly the moment that Obi-Wan’s head flopped to the side, resting back against the pillow, Qui-Gon’s lips found his neck. Soft kisses and little nips were dropped against his skin drawing soft sounds of desire from the redhead as he shuddered in the brunet’s hold. Again he had to bite his lip to not beg the older man for more. Whether that might be a faster glide of that hand along his length, or to be claimed by the Jedi Master in the way that Obi-Wan so badly craved.

“Mm, you’re being so good for me…” As enticing as he usually found Qui-Gon’s regular voice, when it was laced with desire and affectionate praise, Obi-Wan wondered if it might not be the voice itself that tipped him over the edge.

Whimpering softly as the brunet’s grip shifted slightly, speeding up along his length, Obi-Wan didn’t bother trying to stop the way his hips started to push into the hand upon him and then back against that desire thickened length pressing to his rear. Qui-Gon started to move with him, meeting each roll of his hips, grinding forward against him every time the redhead pushed back. As they found a rhythm, both of them devolved into soft sounds of pleasure, their moans barely reaching one another’s ears as they tried to keep the sound down. 

Being caught like this would do neither of them well.

Teeth catching at his lower lip so hard that Obi-Wan thought the skin might very well break, he tried to hang on through the pleasure, wanting to make this last as long as he could. If only because he wanted to hear Qui-Gon fall apart as well. He could feel his body tensing, and by the way Qui-Gon smiled against his neck, he was certain that the older man was aware of how close he was to his finish. No matter how he tried to fight it; his Master’s hand on his body was simply too good to ignore in any way.

“You’ve done so good for me, my Padawan…” Qui-Gon’s voice was low and warm, his beard brushing teasingly against Obi-Wan’s throat as he spoke making the younger man shiver, his cock twitching in the brunet’s grasp. 

A thin whine sneaked past Obi-Wan’s lips as he tried to hold on just a little bit longer, pushed his hips back with just a bit more force. He wanted nothing more than to offer pleasure in return to his beloved Master, to be the reason that Qui-Gon spilled himself. His muscles were tense, preparing for the fall into the white out of pleasure, but he was determined to hang on.

At least until that gorgeous voice spoke again, pleasure soaked and rumbling in his ear. 

“Cum for me, Obi-Wan.”

It was as if all he’d been waiting for was that soft little order, for the moment the words were whispered against his ear, he followed the command. Crying out softly, he surrendered himself to the pleasure, letting it wash through him, overwhelming his awareness for a few seconds. 

Though, when he came back to himself, his awareness was accompanied by confusion. He could no longer feel Qui-Gon pressed against him, and there was no residual warmth as if his Master had never been there, had never touched him…

Blinking a couple times, he realized that Qui-Gon _had never been there_. It’d been nothing but a figment of his imagination again. He focused on the bond he had with his Master suddenly, shutting it down as tightly as he could. It was one thing for an unintended dream, and thus the emotions from said dream, to be passed along their bond. However, it was a totally different thing to allow the wave of sadness that hit him when he realized it had been but a dream to be shared with Qui-Gon.

Though, when he shifted to try to get comfortable again, he realized that it hadn’t been only in his dream that he’d _finished_ and now his leggings were a mess. Sitting up, he scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed heavily before reaching for his long outer robe. Wouldn’t due to be caught with a mess, even if he was decently sure it wouldn’t be visible with how his tunics hung.

Now, he just had to pray that a sonic shower would do enough to make his pants wearable again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being patient with me as I work on this story. And please don't forget to check out [You-Cannot-Go-Agaist-The-Force](https://you-cannot-go-against-the-force.tumblr.com/) where you can ask any of the characters any questions you might have!


	21. A Troublesome Week

Obi-Wan did his best not to second guess his Master, to trust Qui-Gon to make good decisions as a Jedi Master ought to. But when yet another life form, no matter that it was human this time, was brought onto the ship and along with them was frustrating all the same. They weren’t there to liberate slaves, whether Force sensitive or not. And yet, that was exactly what Qui-Gon had done.

Though if the Padawan were honest with himself, and he did try to be, his annoyance was less about the fact that Qui-Gon had bargained for the boy’s freedom, but more so about the fact the boy was now on the ship with them on their way to Coruscant. Honestly, it wasn’t bad enough that they’d drug the brainless Gungan along, but now a child as well? Didn’t his Master realize the possible danger he was putting the untrained child in?

It had been bad enough when it’d been small kittens and puppies that he drug along to somewhere they might live, almost a dozen having taken up permanent residence at the Coruscant Temple. But sentient, or at least semi-sentient if one considered the Gungan, lifeforms should not be drug along on missions that had nothing to do with them. 

In fact, they were taught from the time they were in the Creche that bringing excess people along on missions made it that much harder to guarantee the completion of said mission. In Obi-Wan’s opinion, it was bad enough that they had been forced to bring not just the Queen and her Captain, but a gaggle of extra security members and all her handmaidens. Even a well trained Jedi could only guarantee the safety of so many people, and he was afraid they were over that limit. That if something did happen, not only might they fail the mission, but one or both of them might end up returning to the Force.

And that was something Obi-Wan wasn’t ready to confront yet.

The boy was thankfully less annoying than Jar Jar was. But that didn’t make up for the way Qui-Gon was so very focused on the child. Even their short discussion the first night on the ship after Anakin was brought onboard about his Master believing that this child was the Chosen One from the ancient prophecies wasn’t enough to keep the redhead from being frustrated.

Perhaps he was being selfish, honestly he knew that was at least part of his annoyance, after so many years of being the one that Qui-Gon spent time with when on missions, but he hated that in the last few days of travel, he’d had only a couple hours a day to speak with the older man. And that was really only in the mornings and evenings when they had to share quarters. The small talk around the table at meal times didn’t really count in his mind as the conversations meant little. Or were specifically focused on making sure the Queen didn’t lose her nerve.

Most of the time, Qui-Gon could be found with the boy he’d liberated, trying to go over the basics of the Jedi code and what would be expected of him once he joined the Order. Not that Obi-Wan was sure they’d let him. He’d never heard of the Order taking in someone as old as Anakin was. As far as he knew, six seemed to be the cut off age. Soren had mentioned that when she’d been taken at nearly five years old that the Order had been worried for her since she had memorable bonds with those who’d raised her. But a child mere months from his tenth birthday definitely seemed too old to fully embrace the Jedi Code.

Not that he could point this out to his Master without risking the older man’s ire. And it was bad enough to only get a couple hours a day to speak with the man who meant so much to him; there was no way he’d risk upsetting Qui-Gon and losing that time to silence or sharp words. 

Though, as much as he hated having a small child on board for such an important mission, he was thankful to the boy for refusing to take Qui-Gon’s sleeper. It seemed the child was happy enough to sleep on the floor, stating that he’d done it before as a slave anyways. Which meant that Obi-Wan got to keep his few hours a day of time alone with the older man, even if he shouldn’t crave that attention so damn much. It also meant that Qui-Gon wasn’t stuck trying to curl up in a tiny corner that his annoyingly tall body couldn’t possibly fit in comfortably. Both were a plus in the redhead’s book.

The handmaiden that had gone along with Qui-Gon to see Tatooine, Padme, seemed to have quite an affinity for the child as well. He suspected that she would be quite a good mother when she was ready to do so with how easily she took to caring for Anakin. She was tender and gentle with him, soothing him with soft words and just by being close to him. It reminded him, in a way, of Soren and how she’d always helped soothe those in the Creche who had nightmares while she was there.

He missed her now that he found himself thinking about her and he wondered if she’d found a way to live her life how she’d wanted to. Soren had left the order a few years back, saying that she couldn’t follow their rules and be herself. It had confused him when he’d first heard her excuse for why she was leaving the Order, but after some time to think on it, he could see what she meant. She hadn’t been able to avoid forming attachments, had cared more deeply than most, had more compassion than suited even a Jedi. He remembered when he’d run into her after a mission gone badly and how upset she’d been over those who had died on the mission. Even those she’d never met.

Hopefully Soren had found a way to find the balance she always spoke of and was finally happy with her life. Not that he ever expected to run into her again. The galaxy was massive after all.

It’d taken much longer than Obi-Wan had liked to finally fall asleep. Honestly, it shouldn’t be so damnably hard to release his frustration to the Force; and yet it had proven to take quite some time. When he finally did manage to fall asleep it was thanks to Qui-Gon’s steady breathing from his side of the room. Eventually his breathing came to match his Master’s and he drifted off into the darkness of a blessedly dreamless sleep.

The whoosh of the door barely even registered on the sleeping Jedi as he just assumed it was Qui-Gon going to the ‘fresher as his Master rarely slept through the night. He failed at judging when it was time to stop drinking his tea before bed. 

However, when his bed was suddenly invaded he was yanked back to consciousness. His eyes opened to the near perfect darkness of the room, one hand reaching for his ‘saber before he realized it was a sobbing child that had crawled in bed with him. Freezing, he tried to figure out exactly what to do with Anakin pressing up against his chest and crying. Even when he’d been in the Creche, he’d never been good with other crying children. That had thankfully been something Soren had been happy to handle.

Thinking back on her comforting some of the younger Crechelings, he let one arm gently wrap around the child and started to carefully rub his back slightly. This was not at all something that the young Jedi was prepared for and he wasn’t sure exactly how to handle this. 

“Please don’t…” Anakin tried to speak past his sobs, but it came out on hiccups of air. “Get- get rid of- of me…”

Blinking a couple times in the dark, Obi-Wan frowned a bit, trying to figure out what he should say. And honestly, he had no idea what to say. They weren’t going to do something horrendous such as selling the boy back into slavery somewhere; no Jedi would ever consider doing such a thing to a sentient creature. However, when they reached Coruscant, if the council decided to welcome him into the Order, he would be assigned a different Master for his training as no Master could have two Padawan. Especially not at different levels of training. So he really couldn’t say that they wouldn’t leave him behind as it was an obvious future as far as he could tell.

He was saved from having to find something to say by his Master waking up and coming over to sit on the edge of his bed. One of Qui-Gon’s hands pet over Anakin’s hair tenderly and Obi-Wan could feel the warm rush of comfort that the older man was pushing towards the child in a wave of the Force that washed over Obi-Wan as well thanks to their simple proximity.

“You’re not going to be abandoned, Anakin.” Qui-Gon speaking caused the child to stiffen where he was clinging to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan had expected those words to be comforting to the upset child, instead it made the youngling seem more upset. After a few seconds filled by hiccuping sobs from Anakin, the child pushed himself up and away from Obi-Wan’s chest. There was suddenly a bit of shifting about that Obi-Wan couldn’t fully make out since the largest shadow was now Qui-Gon and he could only hear and feel the blond moving. Though he let his hand drop when Anakin pulled away from him, willing to leave the comfort to someone else.

“Come here, Ani, you’re okay.” 

A flash of jealousy struck Obi-Wan when Qui-Gon spoke so gently to the blond. He tried to tamp down on the training bond so that hopefully his Master wouldn’t realize how he was feeling. Honestly, he shouldn’t be jealous of the boy, it was clear that he was used to having comfort when upset with how easily he’d just come and crawled into bed with the redhead. But as much as he told himself that, he couldn’t help it. 

Not when he’d never been spoken to quite so gently after a nightmare or any other upset by his Master. Let alone being beckoned to come close to the older man. Though, perhaps it was a good thing as well for he already felt guilty for how attached he was to the brunet and that was without sharing too much physical closeness.

Laying there silently, he listened to Qui-Gon softly shushing Anakin and could feel the mattress shifting in a way that made him suspect that his Master was rocking the boy. In a way, he wished they would leave his sleeping couch just so that he could try to meditate himself back to sleep instead of having to deal with being overly aware of both of them. It would at least be easier for him rather than having to lay there and pretend that his chest didn’t feel tight and that he didn’t wish he had the freedom to cry. But even in the darkness, he couldn’t trust that Qui-Gon wouldn’t catch the hitch in his breath.

Slowly, Anakin’s sobs faded out as Qui-Gon mumbled soothing words and explained that the Order would be a family of sorts for him. That he would never be alone or abandoned again for the Order would always be there for him. And Obi-Wan only hoped that Qui-Gon was right about the Order never turning against Anakin since it couldn’t actually be promised. Xanatos was proof of that, wasn’t he?

When Anakin had finally calmed down again, enough so that it sounded as if he might actually be asleep again, Qui-Gon finally stood up from the edge of the bed. Not that he got very far as apparently the boy had somehow gotten a death grip on the edge of Obi-Wan’s tunic and it forced Qui-Gon to stop moving. 

“Lights, low.” Qui-Gon’s voice was soft, just loud enough for the computer system to recognize the words.

And even though Obi-Wan knew the lights would come up, he still found himself squinting against them for a moment before he adjusted. Thankfully, they had stayed rather dim, as requested, and the child hadn’t seemed to stir. Though, his Master looked rather amusing with how he was half stooped over to avoid dropping Anakin when his grip was so fiercely tight on Obi-Wan’s tunic. Reaching down, the redhead started to try to uncurl that deathgrip from the cloth, expecting that Qui-Gon would want to take the boy back to the pile of extra blankets in the mess hall that the child had been given to sleep on.

“You’ll wake him.” Still his Master’s voice was low, carefully pitched so as to allow Anakin to keep sleeping. “Here.”

It was the final word that made Obi-Wan’s eyes widen for a moment, not quite sure what to expect as the older man leaned back down towards the bed. For his Master to settle Anakin up against his side definitely wasn’t on the list. Though, as his lips parted to argue, Qui-Gon held up one hand to stop the words from leaving his lips.

“Just for a moment, Padawan.”

Drawing in a slow breath, Obi-Wan gave a calm nod, accepting that his Master wouldn’t leave him like this the whole night. Especially as if either of them moved much at all, the child was likely to end up dumped on the floor. These beds were absolutely intended for single occupancy.

He turned his head to watch as Qui-Gon stepped over to his own sleep couch and grabbed the edge of the mattress. The older man pulled it off the raised platform, letting it flop to the ground and pushed it up tight to the edge of the platform. That done, he stepped back over next to Obi-Wan.

“Can you pick him up?” 

The question confused Obi-Wan, but he nodded all the same and twisted carefully to make sure he didn’t hurt the boy’s wrist as he worked at gathering him up. Slowly sitting up, he moved to stand, cradling the blond to his chest as he tried to figure out exactly what his Master was doing. With the hold that the boy still had on his clothing, it wouldn’t make much of a difference to try to set him on the mattress on the floor. Even if a drop of but a handful of centimeters was much less dangerous than the half meter drop of the raised sleep couch.

Qui-Gon waved a hand gently, silently urging Obi-Wan to step closer to the wall near the door, which he did. He watched as the older man moved to grab his mattress as well, and that was when he realized what his Master was doing. The redhead wasn’t sure he agreed with this particular plan, but he also figured that arguing with the brunet wasn’t likely to go in his favor at the moment. As hard as it was to convince Qui-GOn to change his mind normally, when he was tired it was even harder. And Obi-Wan didn’t have the effort left in himself either as tired as he was currently to try to think of good enough reasons to avoid this.

So instead, he just stood there, waiting for Qui-Gon to settle the two mattresses side by side. Not that it was an easy task as the area was a couple centimeters too narrow, but they fit well enough, the edge of one mattress curling up against the metal of the platform. The tall man moved to sit on one of the mattresses and gently beckoned to his Padawan to come join him. 

If it weren’t for the child in his arms, Obi-Wan honestly would have jumped at the offer, especially with the tender smile on Qui-Gon’s face. As it was, he sighed softly as he made his way over to the newly formed sleeping area, kneeling down slowly and carefully so as to not jostle Anakin too much. 

Finding a way to lay down without twisting the boy’s wrist was more challenging than he’d expected, and he was appreciative of the lights being turned on again. But finally he managed it, getting Anakin settled between him and Qui-Gon on the mattresses. At least this way none of them would get hurt, he supposed. Though a part of him still wished it hadn’t taken this boy to get Qui-Gon to be willing to sleep like this. 

Qui-Gon worked on spreading the blankets out over all of them, pausing for a moment to gently pet Anakin’s hair again when the boy gave a slight whimper in his sleep. Which thankfully seemed to soothe the blond again. 

“Lights, off.” Qui-Gon’s soft command had the lights turning out again. 

And this time, the mattresses covered the strips of dull lights at the edge of the sleeping platforms leaving them in complete darkness. Drawing in a slow deep breath, Obi-Wan figured it would take him a little while to get back to sleep again. As it always did when he woke after a couple of hours. And especially being stuck laying on his back, for if he rolled on his side he’d either be putting pressure on the boy’s wrist or pulling at the boy if he faced the other way, he knew it would take some time.

Once again, it was Qui-Gon’s steady breathing that slowly lulled him off to sleep. What he hadn’t expected was for Anakin’s breathing to sync up to his Master’s as well. Or maybe Qui-Gon’s breathing had shifted to match Anakin’s. Either way, it didn’t sound like two separate people laying next to him by the time that he finally drifted off to sleep again.

When next he awoke, it was to Anakin facing him, his grip having shifted from the bottom edge of Obi-Wan’s tunic to both hand curled into the cloth against the redhead’s ribs. And he could feel a hand resting on his hip, that one was a good deal larger than the child possessed and he immediately recognized it as Qui-Gon’s.

“Lights, low.”

He kept his voice low, too low actually the first time and had to try again to speak softly enough to not disturb the other two but still loud enough for the computer to register his words. The lights came up finally though and he realized that all of them had ended up on their sides at some point during the night. Obi-Wan lay with his head cushioned on one arm, the boy had curled up in a ball between them clinging to his tunic, and Qui-Gon had settled on his side with one arm stretched over both of them to rest his hand on the redhead’s hip. 

His Master looked more content in his sleep than Obi-Wan could recall seeing in quite some time and he had to close down his bond with the older man to avoid sharing the pang of hurt that struck through him. He shouldn’t be jealous of a child, he knew that, and yet...here he was, hating that it was Anakin who had allowed such a calm to settle over his Master.

Carefully reaching up, he worked Anakin’s fingers from his tunic before carefully wiggling away from both his bedmates so that he could sit up. He had to be meticulous about how he moved to avoid waking either of them as he slowly crawled from the makeshift bed and stood up. Grabbing his ‘saber and belt, he got them in place before heading for the door.

“Lights, off.” He spoke just before the door slid open.

“Obi-Wan?” 

His Master’s voice caused him to give a slight wince, realizing that the door opening had woke the older man just as he suspected it had when Anakin had come in. “Just going to the ‘fresher, Master.”

He heard a slight hum of understanding from the older man and then finally he was able to slip from the room. Even if he felt somewhat guilty for lying to his Master. The ‘fresher might be the first intended stop, but it was not all he was doing. Right now, he just needed to be away from the boy and find somewhere to settle and meditate. If that happened to be the droid room, then that was his choice.

Thankfully, Qui-Gon didn’t call Obi-Wan out on it when he and Anakin finally woke and emerged from their quarters. 

The next day and a half passed rather uneventfully, even if he hated the way Anakin joined them at night, and he was glad when they finally arrived at Coruscant. It gave him time to go to the Room of a Thousand Fountains so that he could meditate and bring himself peace once more. As much as he’d looked forward to it directly after leaving Mirraq, he knew he needed the time to decompress.

What he hadn’t expected of their time on Coruscant was for his Master to offer to give him up for the sake of the boy. Only practice from the last few years of trying to keep certain emotions from leaking through their bond had allowed his anger and hurt to be contained as he tried to agree with his Master that he was ready for the trials. Even if he honestly only agreed with the older man because he couldn’t imagine being forced to travel with and learn from another Master as was the other option he could see.

Qui-Gon had focused on the boy almost more intently after the council declared him as being too old to be trained and Obi-Wan buried himself in training with the other Padawan who were in the Temple as well. Part of him had wished that Bant were there, but another side of him recognized that she would have seen through his facade of normalcy and expected an explanation that he couldn’t give in full. She might know that he had a crush on his Master, but he’d never let himself admit to anyone but himself, and that annoyingly omniscient sentience of Mirraq, that his feelings went deeper than the usual attraction that most Padawan suffered at some point in their training.

Perhaps working himself to pure exhaustion each day wasn’t the best way to handle the upheaval in his emotions, but it allowed him to avoid Qui-Gon at least for the time being. It was better than watching his Master fawn over the boy as he never had over Obi-Wan. 

The order to head back to Naboo with the Queen had left him on edge. Though, thankfully a discussion with Padme about the fact that perhaps they should give Anakin and Qui-Gon the beds he and his Master had been given the first time had gone well enough. At least it had after he explained to her that it was to help Anakin learn how to sleep alone since it was a skill he would need later in life if he still wished to be a Jedi. Sharing a room, though not a bed, would be a good middle ground to help ease him into being on his own as a Jedi Knight. Thankfully she’d bought that and accepted his willingness to be the one to sleep in the mess hall along with Jar Jar. Which had proven to be more easily done than he’d expected so long as he waited for the Gungan to pass out before he tried to. Snoring was much easier to tune out than the annoying babbling.

The third night though, Qui-Gon had come to see him in the mess, sitting down on the floor next to where he had settled himself for the night. “Are you upset with the fact Anakin is with us, Obi-Wan?”

“What?” Lying to his Master wasn’t something he could do easily, and Obi-Wan hoped that asking for an explanation would give him an easier way out than trying to flat out deny that he didn’t like the boy being on this mission.

“Anakin asked me today if the reason you’re not bunking with us this time is because he’s done something wrong.” Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan’s face and the redhead knew that he’d have to skirt the truth as closely as he could.

“Anakin hasn’t done anything wrong, please tell him that.” It really wasn’t the boy’s fault, and he didn’t want to hold his Master’s actions against a mere child who knew not what he was causing.

“Then why are you sleeping here?” Qui-Gon’s voice didn’t hold any kind of obvious accusation, but Obi-Wan still knew that the older man wasn’t happy with him upsetting Anakin either.

He drew in a deep breath and just barely avoided giving a heavy sigh before he could figure out an answer. “Master, I’m not comfortable sharing a bed with him. I did not sleep well on the way to Coruscant. I worried I would hurt him if I moved wrong with the way he clung to me. If we are looking to face a battle, I would rather be rested.”

Qui-Gon seemed to ponder his words for a moment, blue eyes studying his face for a long time before he gave a simple nod. “Remember, Padawan, our mission is only to keep the Queen alive, not to fight a war for her.”

“Let us hope the Gungans are willing to fight for their home then, Master.” 

One hand lifted to grip at his shoulder, squeezing gently. “We shall trust in the Force.”

“Yes, Master.”

Qui-Gon smiled at him and finally stood. “Sleep well, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan nodded in response as he pulled his blanket up closer to his chin and settled in for the night. The hard metal was better than the soft mattresses if only because the ache it left was merely physical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is going to be a short break before Chapter 22 is going to be going up. Why? Because I'm partaking in an anniversary challenge for QuiObi and will be focusing on the prompts I was given for that for the next little while. Once I get those done, I will get Chapter 22 done. The good news is, I already know the majority of what will happen in 22.
> 
> Don't forget to check out [You-Cannot-Go-Against-The-Force](https://you-cannot-go-against-the-force.tumblr.com/) so that you can ask any questions you may have of these boys.


	22. A Reunion

The weight settled over her shoulders as if trying to slowly drive her to her knees and it took nearly all her strength to stay standing. She had never felt hatred such as this and it made her breath catch as she tried to remember how to push through the darkness. What training she’d had in facing this hadn’t really prepared her for this and it took her a few moments to find her center and to push aside the weight of the hatred again.

She had spent the last couple of years on Naboo, had made many friends in her time there, and the thought of losing any of them hurt her. It was why she had pushed them to all obey the battle droids and to allow themselves to be rounded up into camps. Thankfully, droids weren’t programmed for cruelty. No, their program was written only to make them follow commands, and in this case so long as no one fought back there seemed to be no violence. At least there hadn’t been anyone hurt in the last couple weeks in the camp.

But this hatred spoke too clearly of intent to hurt, to kill, to _enjoy killing_ , and she wouldn’t allow those she cared about to be hurt. After making sure that her medical pack was secured tightly to her hip, she grabbed the bag that she had loaded with books before coming to the camp. The books had been plenty to convince the droids that she simply intended to entertain the children so they wouldn’t cause the droids problems. 

Not that it was fully the truth. 

Pulling out the books and setting them down, she reached into the bag once more, pulling out the false bottom to reveal the lightsaber she’d honestly hoped to never need again. But for the sake of others, she would take the weapon up again. With long fingers wrapped around cool metal, she waited for the patrolling droids to pass before she slipped away from everyone else. 

A Force enhanced jump allowed her to make up onto the side of one of the buildings. Another couple jumps put her on top of the nearest building and from there, she took off at a run. As heavy as the hatred was, she still had to let herself be aware of it, had to track it, look for the source so that she might protect those who meant so much to her. 

It was several minutes of running before she realized that it seemed to be radiating out from near the palace and she frowned slightly, her eyes narrowing as she pulled upon the Force a little more. While the Queen was suspected to be off planet, that didn’t mean there was no one in danger at the palace and so she needed the extra speed to get there as fast as she could. 

As she neared the palace, she realized that the darkness was centered closer to the royal hangar and she shifted her course to head that direction instead. It was as she neared the entrance to the hangar and had to drop back down to street level that the battle droids finally noticed her. Growling faintly in her throat at the first blaster shot that just barely missed her, she ignited her ‘saber, the plasma forming in a vibrant yellow.

Deflecting the incoming shots fired at her, she readied herself mentally for a battle such as one she knew she’d never encountered before. She had faced those who were struggling with their emotions, who didn’t yet know how to handle their anger or hurt, but this...this was completely different. Whoever this was, they had embraced their darkness in full, leaning into it for strength.

She could taste the hatred, the sharp bitterness building in her mouth, thick and heavy as if she might suffocate from it. And yet, she pushed through, determined not to lose those she cared about. Never again would she allow someone to fall without at least trying to stop it. 

Slamming a hand to the controls to shut the hangar, she didn’t release the button that kept her ‘saber lit as she moved deeper inside. Tracking down the darkness was causing an ache to build in her temples, but for now her discomfort didn’t matter. Letting herself follow that hatred, she tried to ignore the way the nausea built, the thick bitterness nearly overwhelming as she moved deeper into the building, heading down into the power generators. Which left worry building in her, for if they were able to set off a large enough explosion within the generators there was a possibility it could take out quite a bit of the city, hurting to killing hundreds if not thousands depending on how large an explosion they could cause.

She swallowed back her nausea, her free hand lifting, to press the back of it to her brightly painted lips as she drew in a slow deep breath through her nose. Determination to keep everyone safe was all that really kept her going as she moved along the walkways, letting instinct guide her way to whoever this threat was. Out of habit, she gave a loose swing of her ‘saber, wrist turning in a circle just to be sure she was ready to fight when she finally found the source of this darkness.

Her eyes fell upon the start of the electron beams that served as a form of protection for the center of the generators and her fear spiked as she realized whoever it was she was searching for had to be past them already. It took her a couple seconds to remember that fear would serve no good right now. She needed to stay focused, to stay calm and to be able to think clearly if she wished to come out of this fight alive.

She jumped up towards the platform that led through the electron beams just as she was slammed with a new wave of emotion. This one was sour on the back of her tongue, not dissimilar to the aftertaste of vomiting, and as much as she wished it weren’t, this was one she knew well. Heart break. It burned at the back of her tongue, nearly strong enough to erase the taste of hatred that had haunted her since she first started to track down this darkness.

Barely managing to keep her balance on the edge of the platform, she realized that there was a voice echoing as well, one that she knew. Even if she’d never heard it so broken.

Pausing for a couple seconds to try to catch her breath and center herself again, she turned towards the electron beams. The one in front of her had opened, but before she could make it further than a few steps the beam had ignited again, the cycle faster than she had been prepared for and she couldn’t help the rough growl of annoyance she gave. She could see him standing at the end of the beams, knew he was blinded by his heartbreak and the anger she could feel slowly building around them. Though with the hatred from whoever that Zabrak at the end of the hallway was, it had to be his darkness for she knew it wasn’t her sweet little Obi-Wan’s, kept her from tasting his fury, their bitterness too similar to separate.

Heart pounding, she was stuck watching as Obi-Wan leapt at the Zabrak with his ‘saber ignited. Watching him fight, she felt as if someone had squeezed her chest to the point breathing was all but impossible to accomplish when he was knocked over the edge into the melting pit. This time, it was her fury that was ignited and she knew that she would kill this Zabrak whether it cost her life to do so or not.

It took her a moment, but she found the control panel for the beams. She didn’t know the passcode to shut it off, but she didn’t care either. Settling one hand over the panel, she focused, letting her awareness travel down along the wires to find the right spot to push at with just enough energy to trigger the mechanism. This sort of Force use wasn’t something she’d had to utilize in a while and it took much more time and effort than she appreciated. In fact, the barrier in front of her had powered down again before she could finally trigger the entire system to shut down.

When she opened her eyes, she saw no one at the end of the hall and she had to swallow down her panic and refocus herself. Though as she headed down the hallway, ‘saber at the ready, she realized that she didn’t feel that darkness pushing at her anymore. But the sourness of heartbreak was still clear. Though it was the hint of salt at the tip of her tongue that gave her some kind of hope. Desperation was one of her least favorite tastes, as if one were drowning in tears, but it meant that there was still someone alive in that room.

Racing down the hallway, she slid to a stop when her eyes fell upon Obi-Wan and his Master on the floor. A quick glance told her the Zabrak was nowhere to be found and she let her ‘saber deactivate as she headed towards the two men on the floor. Fearing the worst, she tucked the weapon on the edge of her pants before digging in her med kit as she walked over to the two men.

Though, as she approached, the ‘saber she’d seen on the floor lifted on it’s own, igniting before her, barring her path. Blinking a couple times in surprise, she stood still, feeling her own heart aching for Obi-Wan as she was sure the desperation and heartbreak was his with how the tears she could see trailing down Master Jinn’s cheek were falling at a angle that meant they had to be the redhead’s.

“Ta Mira Ki,” The nickname slipped past her painted lips without her meaning to speak them, though she hoped after the fact that it would be enough to help him realize who she was. “It’s me…”

It took a few moments, but the ‘saber before her finally turned off and Obi-Wan’s head lifted so he could look at her, the skin around his eyes red and soaked with tears. Though what startled her was the yellow in his eyes as he stared at her, his heartbreak as clear in his gaze as it was on her tongue.

“S-Soren?”

“I’m here, Ta Mira Ki, I’m here…” She took a cautionary step forward, doing her best to not let her expression give away her shock at the color of his eyes. “Let me help.”

“He-” The redhead stopped on a shaking sob, having to suck in a hiccuped breath. “He’s dying.”

“Let me try to help.” This time, he nodded and she was quick to close the distance between them.

Perhaps others would have been shy about touching someone they didn’t know, but Soren had spent too much time as a healer to care anymore. She immediately ripped the older man’s tunics open, needing to see the wound if she were going to have any hope of helping in any kind of way. It was a ‘saber wound, cauterized mostly, a few cracks seeping blood making her suspect he’d fallen heavily after being struck.

One hand settling on Master Jinn’s chest, she closed her eyes and focused on the damage, mapping it out so she could figure out if there was anything she could do. It had missed his heart, barely, but had damaged quite a bit of other soft tissue as well as removing a chunk of one of his ribs. All things that could be fixed if she could keep him alive long enough.

Her free hand dug out a syringe of bacta from her med pack and she bit the cover over the needle to pull it off without removing her other hand from the brunet’s chest as she needed to keep a close eye on exactly where she planned to place the shot. Though as she started to near the man with the needle, she frowned as she realized that Obi-Wan’s sobs were just enough that he was rocking his Master’s body and she spit the needle cover to the side.

“Obi-Wan, I need you to step back. I need him flat and still.” Her voice was still warm, but her words were also clearly an order.

And as much as she could feel the spike in Obi-Wan’s distress, she was pleased to see him moving. At least he was aware enough to listen to her, to do everything he could to save the older man. If it was at all possible. He carefully lowered Master Jinn to the floor and scooted back, hands settling on his own thighs as he knelt just a little ways back.

Smiling up at him, Soren was about to thank him when she felt the older man’s vitals suddenly shift. They were dropping, fast, his heart slowing, his breathing stopping near immediately and her eyes widened in shock. 

“Grab his arm! Now!” The warmth was gone from her voice, the command clear and leaving no room for argument.

Once again, Obi-Wan did as told and she sucked in a sharp breath as she felt the brunet’s lungs expand under her hand again, his heart once again finding a steady rhythm. Looking back and forth between the two men, she wondered if anyone else had ever realized their connection. She knew that the legends said that there were those who were not from Sune who were bound by the Force, but she’d never encountered anyone but her own people who actually were. It took her a few moments to center herself, to push that thought away to be dealt with later. For now, Master Jinn and Obi-Wan needed her to make sure that the brunet survived.

“Stay right like that. Do not let go of here. You hear me, Ta Mira Ki? You don’t let go.” Her voice was carefully controlled again, gentled once more.

“I won’t.” Obi-Wan nodded to her, his yellow eyes locked on the older man.

Nodding, she focused herself in on Master Jinn again, looking for the best places for the bacta injection. Knowing that it would take more effort to get through the charred flesh, she went instead from the healthy skin at the edge of the wound. It was a series of short depressions of the plunger, a partial shot in a half dozen different places around the wound. Though the Jedi Master was close enough to the Force right now he likely hadn’t noticed at all as she worked. 

Dropping the syringe next to herself when it was empty, she dug in the med pack again, pulling out a couple small bottles and a pouch. While some might frown on her use of the Force, she didn’t care when it came to healing someone. Especially when she suspected they were Force bound. The lids were unscrewed from the bottles and left to fall where they would, bouncing against Master Jinn’s belly and rolling away. She could find them later. For now, she was more worried about getting things done quickly before Master Jinn was too far gone.

Using the Force to support the empty bottle, she tipped the one filled with blue fluid slowly, letting it dribble into the empty one. Stopping when it was about a quarter full, she let go of the bottle of blue, guiding it to the ground to set it down with the Force. The quarter filled bottle still floated before her and she opened the small leather pouch. This kind of fine work was always wearing on her, but right now adrenaline was on her side and she pushed through it, pulling up a bit of the fine powder from the bag before tying it off and dropping the pouch.

The powder was added to the suspended bottle and she finally took the bottle in hand. Thumb covering the opening, she shook it sharply, making sure that it mixed into a sludge like mess before she moved it closer to the wound. Soren carefully poured the semi-fluid out onto the brunet’s chest, just around the wound and then dropped the bottle to the side. Fingers smearing the mixture, her touch dipped through the wound, coating the charred flesh as well as she worked. She might not be able to get to the back edge very well, but some scarring was acceptable so long as it wasn’t in the middle of veins and organs as was her worry with the burnt tissue.

“This will help the bacta work, it helps speed it up. I still need to get him to a tank. I need you to stay where you are while I get help to get him to the medical wing in the palace. You need to stay with him. Obi-Wan, the presence of those we know can help keep us stable when badly wounded.” Those yellow eyes were still locked on Master Jinn and she couldn’t help the frown that took her lips; even if part of her understood his focus as well. “Obi-Wan, tell me you understand.”

“Yes, Soren, I won’t go anywhere.” He still didn’t look at her, but his voice was at least mostly steady and she was willing to accept it.

“Keep ahold of him, it lets him know you’re here.”

“I will.”

“Good.” She smiled at him before heading back down the hallway and leaping down through the platforms. 

They didn’t have time to waste on stairs right now. It was bad enough she’d have to give the medical unit time to use the stairs getting back to Obi-Wan and his Masters. Making her way through the hallways, Soren was surprised that the first people she came across was the Queen herself. 

“M’lady,” Giving a short bow, less respectful than some might prefer but she didn’t have the time to waste, Soren paused. “Please have your guards call a medical team here immediately. There is a Jedi who will die soon without care.”

The woman looked to her guards, “Captain Tonra.”

“Yes, You Highness,” He pulled out his communicator, “Medical assistance needed at-”

“The power generators. I’ll meet them there.” Soren filled in immediately and once she had the nod from Tonra, she was off again, headed back for the wounded Jedi, trusting that he would finish his call.

She paced impatiently in the hallway leading into the generator system, hating that she knew she didn’t have the strength left to try to carry Master Jinn to medical on her own. While the Force might not be a fully sentient entity that could be bargained with, she still found herself doing so, swearing that if the Force would just let her save Master Jinn and heal Obi-Wan’s heart that she would forgive it for reclaiming Nikoti so soon. All she knew was that she had to do something right now beyond just waiting for the medical team.

It took much longer than she would have liked for a medical team to appear, but at least they had a carrying board with them. 

“Follow me.” Her voice was once again sharp and commanding.

The medical team did as bid, following after her at a near run up the stairs towards the injured man. She could read the expressions on the faces of the medical team when they saw the wound, but a sharp look from her and a shake of her head had them staying silent. Thankfully, they had all come to trust her over the last couple years that she’d been working as a healer on Naboo. She had specialty training that they couldn’t come close to and they all knew it by now.

“Okay, Obi-Wan,” She spoke gently as she moved over to kneel next to the redhead. “We’re going to load him on a carrier. I want you to keep hold of his hand and walk with us, alright?”

Obi-Wan nodded and she smiled at him before brushing a hand over his back gently just as she had when they were in the Creche. Reaching out with both hands, she grabbed Master Jinn’s side and rolled him towards her so they could get the carrier under him. Then she settled him back onto it. A little bit of shifting of the large Jedi was needed to get him adjusted to be balanced when carried, but the rest of the medical team was quick to help her as Obi-Wan was very clearly not in a state to do so.

A small blessing was that none of these people knew Obi-Wan and knew that his eyes should be green, not gold. So that was information she could keep to herself for the time being and handle when needed. Stressing him out more by pointing it out would do neither Jedi any good.

The medical team finally lifted the stretcher and Soren encouraged Obi-Wan to take a place at one side so that he could hold his Master’s arm as they made their way slowly down the stairs. Soren wished she could rush them all, but it would take one wrong step and Master Jinn could be dropped to his death. So she just tried to control her fear, one hand holding onto the injured Jedi’s ankle to track his vitals. And thankfully, they still seemed to be steady enough thanks to Obi-Wan’s touch.

When they finally made it to medical, she set about getting him set on a life support system as the others got the bacta tank prepped. While she couldn’t keep Obi-Wan in physical contact with the older man while he was in the tank, she could keep him close by. The machines would keep him breathing and his heart beating while the bacta healed him. But she also recognized that the redhead still needed to be close, at least if she were right about them being Force Bound, and asked for a sleeper chair to be brought in for him. It would not only keep him close enough to his Master to help keep him stable, but also kept him from moving around too much yet. She still needed to check him for any possible wounds, though she didn’t suspect much damage since she had seen no charring to his clothing from a blade and he hadn’t walked as if he were hurt as they carried his Master down to the bacta tank.

Stepping up next to the Padawan, she reached out and cupped his cheek, the tan of her hand standing out against the paleness of his cheek. “You’re going to stay right here with him for now. But I also need you to rest...will you do that for me?”

He still looked on the verge of tears as he looked at her, but he nodded. “Thank you, Soren I didn’t know what to do...I thought I’d lost him…”

“I can’t promise he will survive. Not yet. But we will do all we can for him. Will you trust me to do that for you, Ta Mira Ki?” Her voice was gentle even as she stepped closer, pressing her forehead to his much as she had in the Creche, still uncaring of how her dark hair swung forward into his face.

“I always have, Soren.” His eyes had closed as her forehead pressed to hers, and his arms hung limply by his sides, but she knew he was still very on edge.

“Thank you. Just rest. I’ll get us some food here soon. I need to check in with the Queen first and let her know how Master Jinn is doing, but then I’ll get us some tea and food.” With that, she pulled away from him and headed out of the door, trusting him to keep his word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The nickname Soren uses for Obi-Wan is in her native tongue and it translate to "little green eyes" as that was what she called him back when they were both in the Creche.
> 
> There is going to be a short break before Chapter 23 is going to be going up. Why? Because I'm partaking in an anniversary challenge for QuiObi and will be focusing on the prompts I was given for that for the next little while. Once I get those done, I will get Chapter 23 done. At least if the muses don't kick my ass again and demand I write for this fic instead. Let's hope I can get my prompts done.
> 
> Don't forget to check out [You-Cannot-Go-Against-The-Force](https://You-Cannot-Go-Against-The-Force.Tumblr.com) so that you can ask any questions you may have of these boys.


	23. The Waiting Game

Sitting in the chair that Soren had gotten brought in for him, Obi-Wan couldn’t help the way he stared at the bacta tank. His chest still felt tight, almost as if he couldn’t even breathe, as he looked at his floating Master. He knew that Soren would do every single possible thing that she could to keep Qui-Gon alive, but like she’d said, even with her odd mix of skills, there was no way to truly guarantee that his beloved Master wouldn’t be reclaimed by the Force. All he could do now was hope.

Maybe he ought to try to release his fear to the Force, try to release the affection that he had no right to anyways. And yet, he didn’t think he could actually manage to find his way into an actual meditation right now. One had to be able to find some kind of peace within themselves to center and focus upon that to find their way to the touch of the Light within the Force, and he knew that he had no peace to be focused upon right now. All he could think about was Qui-Gon and the wound through his torso. Of course the faint pinking in the bacta near the wound, the scorched flesh having cracked in a few places when they had moved him into the tank, was causing more distress than he really thought was acceptable.

Obi-Wan really doubted that she had put the chair close to the tank to keep him close to it, but he was willing to take advantage of that and reached out to press one hand against the smooth transparisteel. He wished there was anything he could do right now, but Force healing had never been his gift really. Sure, if in contact with someone, he could help track down and encourage some healing of the damaged areas. But from the distance he was forced to keep, he had no chance of doing much of anything.

The door slid open and Obi-Wan suddenly realized that he’d lost track of time sitting there staring at his Master and hoping for him to heal. Blinking a couple times as he turned his head to look at Soren, he suddenly realized that the blurriness hadn’t been from the bacta, but from tears that hadn’t yet fallen. Clearing his throat, he swiped his free hand over his face to brush away the unspilt tears as he drew in a slow breath in an attempt to settle himself.

“You okay, Ta Mira Ki?” Soren’s voice was soft and tender as the door slid shut behind her and she moved to set the tray she had on one of the moveable tables.

Part of Obi-Wan said he needed to tell her that he was fine, after all, he was a Jedi and even his Master’s death shouldn’t leave him feeling as if he were about to break apart into too many pieces to ever be fixed. However, lying to Soren had never proved fruitful. She was even better than Qui-Gon at seeing through someone. When he’d asked her back when they were in the Creche, she’d said that she could taste his lies and that he would never be able to trick her. Which had proven true at least then.

He gave a heavy sigh and shook his head lightly as his gaze slid back to his injured Master. “I know it’s impossible but-” 

Soren left the food and tea where it was as she stepped closer to the Padawan, one gentle hand resting on his shoulder. “But what?”

“I swear I felt it happen.” Obi-Wan’s voice was low as he spoke, not wanting to risk anyone overhearing them no matter how unlikely it would be anyways. “When he was stabbed, I _felt_ the ‘saber going through me…”

The hand on his shoulder squeezed lightly, “A side effect of your bond.”

Russet brows drew together at her words as Obi-Wan couldn’t recall ever hearing of a training bond being strong enough to feel the damage done to one another. Even those who could speak through it didn’t feel the injury. Sure they were aware of the injury happening, but that didn’t mean they had felt the damage being done. Then again, Soren hadn’t been part of the Order for nearly five years now, maybe she was too used to the bonds that her people formed with one another? He’d heard that their bonds went beyond what a Jedi training bond might offer.

“Perhaps.” His voice wasn’t as steady as he would have liked, but he didn’t have the words to try to argue with Soren either.

She squeezed his shoulder again before she moved to fetch the small table with the food and tea on it. The table and a small rolling stool were both drug over to where he was sitting next to the bacta tank. Soren poured them each a cup of tea and passed one of the cups to Obi-Wan. It had a soft scent and, while not unappealing, was not something he recognized. Still, it was something to drink and so he lifted it to his lips and sipped at it. The faint sweetness burst over his tongue in a way that the scent hadn’t led him to expect, but he found he enjoyed it all the same as the tea proved to be a mix of something herbal and a fruit like sweetness that made it quite enjoyable without adding anything extra to it.

“I promise you, Obi-Wan, I will do everything I can to ensure that Master Jinn survives.” Her words were soft, but held plenty of conviction.

“Thank you. It’s all that could be asked of anyone. Even the Order would not try asking you for more than that.” Obi-Wan gave her a tense smile, trying to keep from giving away just how much those words had hurt to say.

A sharp and very unladylike snort came from the Sunese woman as she lowered her own tea cup. “The Order wouldn’t even ask that much of me, Obi-Wan. Do not forget that I was part of it for some time.”

As much as he would have liked to have argued on the behalf of the Order, to have claimed that of course the Order would hope she would do all she could for their injured comrade, he also knew that it would be a lie that they would both taste. Instead, he sighed heavily and nodded, knowing that she was right. The Order was much too accepting of allowing the Force to decide things and Soren had always complained about that, suggesting that if one could be healed then the Force hadn’t been ready to accept that person yet. If the Force wanted someone, she had said when they were younger, then nothing could possibly stop it from happening.

Perhaps a change of topic might be a better plan than focusing on things that didn’t matter. “May I ask a personal question?” 

Those strangely colored blue and green eyes locked on his, the mottling almost dizzying to look at, but still she smiled playfully, reminding him that part of his own mischievousness had been influenced by her. “You can ask...I may not answer, but you can most certainly ask.”

Chuckling softly, he shifted in his seat, both hands moving to curl around his teacup. “Why did you leave the Order?”

“What were you told?” 

The immediate question made him curious just how much information had been left out of what he’d been told. “Master Kiro returned to the Temple and it was reported that you had chosen to return to Sune and that you had requested to leave the Order.”

He watched her closely as he spoke, confused by the sour look on her face. Had they really told him so little? Or was the information he and Bant had been given a complete fallacy? Obi-Wan hoped that it was just a mistake on the side of the Order.

Soren drew in a deep breath and blew it out on a heavy sigh as she looked down into her cup, the playfulness on her features fading away to a seriousness he’d never really equated with her in regards to anything but healing. “I suppose none of that is a lie.”

“But?” He filled in for her, hearing the word even in her silence.

“But it doesn’t tell you _why_ I left. Just that I did.”

That was definitely true, but did that mean she would actually explain it? Should he ask? Prompt her for more information? Or just let it drop? Before he could make up his mind though, she was speaking again.

“I was four when the Order took me in. Which means that I still remember part of my life before the Order. And maybe that was the problem...I wasn’t the blank slate that so many are.” She sounded sad as she spoke, staring at her tea.

“So you missed your life on Sune?” He had the vague image that came to mind of who he believed were his parents, but there weren’t any full memories of his life before the Order.

She smiled a little sadly and shook her head. “Not exactly. I remembered some of the things from my childhood, such as the lullaby my mother sang to me….and part of it stuck with me more powerfully that I had expected.”

He let the silence fill the room for a while, both of them sipping on their teas. Though, when his cup was empty and she hadn’t yet spoken, he found himself wanting more information, wanting to understand why Soren would leave the Order. It wasn’t something he’d ever considered. Even before realizing he’d fallen in love with his Master.

“Soren, what happened? That mission on Wilkala...Did something happen?” Obi-Wan spoke gently, trying to tread carefully. 

And even with how he’d tried to approach the topic, he saw Soren give an ever so slight flinch, her eyes falling shut for a moment and pain clear on her face as restrained as she kept it. He gave her time, falling silent even as he reached for one of the small fruits on the tray she’d brought. 

When finally she spoke, her voice wasn’t soft or gentle as he was used to, but instead hard, sharp and tainted with pain. “Wilkala was at the verge of war, we were supposed to help them find a way to peace instead. There was an assassination while we were there and any chance of peace was broken. And Kiro decided it was time for us to leave.”

“We are peacekeepers, not warriors.” The near mantra that he’d heard from Qui-Gon several times over the years when their missions went wrong slipped past his lips without thought.

Soren’s upper lip twitched, almost as if she were about to snarl before she could calm herself again. “So he said.”

“I thought you’d dealt with leaving a mission when it became hopeless before…” Without thinking about it, one of his hands lifted to tug faintly at his braid.

“This was different.” The sharpness of her voice softened a bit, the pain becoming clear in her voice. “I didn’t want to fight a war. I just wanted to take Nikoti with us…”

“Nikoti?” That wasn’t a name that Obi-Wan knew and he hadn’t heard of any other Jedi being on Wilkala at the start of the civil war.

“He was from Sune...Nikoti Kitarin. A healer who had come to help find a cure to the sickness that was plaguing the working class on Wilkala.” Soren took a shaky breath before finishing her tea. Only then did she look up at Obi-Wan, the pain clear in her mottled gaze. “Kiro told me that I had to pick the Order or Nikoti. So I made my decision and I stayed on Wilkala.”

She’d stayed for this man, whoever he was, but that pain… “What happened to Nikoti?”

“We worked as healers, uncaring which side of the battle they belonged. If they were sick or injured, we healed them. I learned so much from him.” She blinked against the tears even as she looked up at the bacta tank, gesturing lightly with one hand. “The jolubi powder, the one I put on Master Jinn’s wound, helps speed the body’s natural ability to heal, triggering the response within the body itself. Nikoti taught me how to make the powder and the balance of powder to oil to make it work best.”

He could hear the pride in her voice but he realized after a moment that everything she’d just said was in past tense. “Did he...die?”

Her teal painted lips trembled faintly for a moment before she nodded. “Yes. I had gone to help deliver a babe and when I got back...someone had killed him while I was gone. They left a note, promising to end my life as well if I didn’t stop supporting the royal line by helping heal their people as well…”

“And you did as they asked?” Obi-Wan’s voice was shocked as he spoke, having always known Soren to be extremely strong willed and unable to imagine seeing her giving up over a threat that she could have easily protected herself from.

“I saw no reason to stay when they took away my balance.” Soren shrugged as she grabbed a couple pieces of fruit herself.

“Your balance?” It wasn’t a term that he had heard before, but he had a feeling it was very important all the same.

“So each in their turn are united  
According to their destiny  
For souls find their rest in their equal  
Forever entwined shall they be.”  
The words fell easily from her lips, as if she’d said them many times before. “It’s a poem from Sune. It refers to our balance, how the Force gives us balance in one another.” 

Obi-Wan nodded slowly at her words, not completely sure he fully understood, but he trusted her to get there eventually. She’d never left him to puzzle things out if she could avoid it in the past at least.

“Nikoti was my balance, our souls were bound by the Force itself. It’s why I couldn’t leave him even for the Order. With him, I was whole, not aching for that which was missing. I couldn’t leave him...but when he was killed…” She broke off, taking a moment to refill her cup and sip at it before she spoke again. “When he died, I lost my compassion. I didn’t care about the Wilkalans anymore. I saw no reason to help them any longer. They’d stolen my balance from me and truly, I lost myself to my anger. I wished them all the pain they had caused me and I left them behind.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes were wide as she admitted to being lost to anger. Soren had been one of the most controlled people, the one who took so easily to meditation and was the first to tell him off for being too emotional. To think of her so angry that she turned her back on an entire planet all because of someone was a surprise. And yet, he found himself able to sympathize in some strange way. 

He’d so easily surrendered to the hurt and the anger and opted to kill the Zabrak who’d stabbed his Master. What moral high ground did he have?

“The Order-”

“Wanted nothing to do with me. I had made my decision to betray my vows. Kai helped me get into the Temple long enough to get a couple things I’d left before going to Wilkala. She helped me find enough calm that I was able to finally figure out what to do.” 

“Which was?”

“I returned to Sune, I let them teach me how to find balance in myself without Nikoti. I turned to healing in full, I had failed him by abandoning those on Wilkala when all he had wanted was for them not to suffer while those in power figured out what was to happen. I hadn’t drawn my ‘saber since his death until today.” She finished off her tea and set the cup aside before she slid from her stool, kneeling before Obi-Wan and taking his hand in hers as she stared up at him. “I will not fail you, Ta Mira Ki, I will see your Master healed so you do not have to face life without him.”

Brows drawing together, his head tipped slightly to the side. “Why are you so determined to heal him?”

“Because I will not see you broken from losing one you love the way I was.”

Breath catching, Obi-Wan had to cough a couple times to clear his throat before he managed to shakily ask, “What?”

“You hide it well, Ta Mira Ki, but I have always seen through you, hmm?” Her voice was light than it had been, a hint of playfulness returning to her tone. “Whether you intended it or not, there are deeper feelings for him than the Order would appreciate. I cannot do much to ease your longing, but I can do what I can to ensure you do not lose him to the Force so soon.”

Obi-Wan was silent, staring at her wide-eyed for a long moment before he finally whispered, “He doesn’t know…”

“Of course he doesn’t. And no one shall hear of it from me unless you give me permission.” She leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to the back of his hand before she stood up again and moved to take a seat on her stool again. Popping another bit of fruit in her mouth, she chewed and swallowed before looking to Obi-Wan again. “What are your plans when you’re knighted?”

“I will train Anakin, as I promised Master Qui-Gon I would.” The answer was immediate, the redhead not needing even a single second to think about the possibilities.

“Anakin? Who’s that?” Her smile grew, her excitement over little ones clear as she leaned forward a bit.

“A young boy from Tatooine. He had a high midichlorian count and Master Qui-Gon managed to free him. He believes that Anakin is the Chosen One. I promised him I would train Anakin, that Anakin would grow up knowing the facts so that he might make the best decisions possible.” Obi-Wan looked over at his Master’s suspended form, wishing that he could trade the older man places. 

If only he could convince himself that it was for the less selfish reason of wanting Anakin to have a more skilled Master than he knew he could be. Part of him so obviously wished he were the one the Force might take just so that he didn’t have to face the pain of waiting and hoping. If Qui-Gon were to die, he knew he would forever resent his own inability to react faster and for failing to be there to fight alongside his beloved Master.

“I get to meet him, right?” Her smile drew one to Obi-Wan’s, even if his were more muted.

“Of course. We are stuck here until the Council arranges some kind of transport.” Reaching out to set a hand against the side of the tank, his eyes widened when he felt a faint flutter through the training bond he shared with his Master, almost as if Qui-Gon were trying to soothe him and the hope he was clinging to burned hot for a moment. Perhaps his Master wouldn’t die… “I wish you would be with us…”

“Then I shall be.” Soren was watching him intently and he wasn’t quite sure why her look was so incredibly focused on him.

“The Order-”

“Will either accept that I am his healer and will be traveling with him, or they will be leaving the both of you and the boy here so that I can see to Master Jinn’s injury.” Her voice wasn’t harsh in any way, but it was strict, showing she was unwilling to even consider changing her decision. “There are no healers in the Order that will be able to keep him safe and I will not have him dying because they’re all fools who trust in the Force too much.”

Obi-Wan was silent for several long moments before he smiled at her and nodded. “Thank you, Soren.”

“Of course.” 

When silence descended between them again this time, it came peacefully. The redhead was able to just relax with her as he used to, the two of them slowly working through the rest of the meal. Which was when Soren changed her mind about the silence.

“Now, time for your check up.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sure you are, but I still need to check. If we want the Council to listen to me, I will need to prove that I am a capable healer.” Obi-Wan suspected that had just been an excuse, but he still nodded to her, letting her come to kneel before him once more.

She took his hand again, but this time her eyes fell closed and he could feel the way she pushed at him lightly with the Force, checking him over for injuries. He could feel the bruising around his ribs from his fall between the walkways while fighting the Zabarak, but he didn’t feel much else. And the way that she finally pulled away from him with a nod told him that at least he hadn’t been wrong about the state of his own body. 

“Rest, Obi-Wan. Close your eyes and rest, take a nap, or whatever else you need to do. But I want you to sit here and give your body a chance to calm down completely from the battle. It will help you heal faster.” 

That tone brokered no argument and he nodded to her, shifting a bit in his chair to get more comfortable. He let his eyes close, just trying to find his way towards a meditation as he listened to Soren putter around the room. Breathing slow and steady, he wished he could find his inner peace more easily, but he would work with what he had. 

Exactly _when_ he had fallen asleep, Obi-Wan didn’t know. All he really knew was that he must have with how he’d been jerked back to consciousness when the door slid open with a sharp hiss and Anakin came running in.

“Is Master Qui-Gon going to be okay!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank [Tessiete](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tessiete/pseuds/tessiete) for helping me by figuring out the poetry because I suck at anything but prose writing.


	24. A Visit From The Council

Soren had been rather pathetically relieved when she’d realized that there were no other Jedi around who might have recognized why Obi-Wan’s eyes were gold. Though it had been after she’d scooped up Anakin that she’d noticed that the redhead’s beautiful eyes were back to the green she had grown up seeing. If she hadn’t already been certain about their connection the two Jedi shared, she would have been more shocked. At least she didn’t have to try to find a way to explain everything to the Council while praying that they would actually listen to her when they were so severely against bonds of any kind. Even if it were the Force itself causing the bond whether Obi-Wan or Master Jinn had any interest in pursuing it.

She’d explained things as best as she could to Anakin, promising to do everything she possibly could to keep Master Jinn alive. Obi-Wan had come in on her side and some of Anakin’s worry had faded away at the obvious trust that the redhead had in her. She just hoped that the Council would trust in her abilities as well. Without her, she wasn’t certain that Master Jinn would survive. Not only because she knew she possessed greater skill in the healing arts than any of the Coruscanti healers, but because she knew without her, the Council would try to set Obi-Wan on his own missions. And she couldn’t risk such separation between the two of them right now.

While she didn’t agree with the majority of the Order’s decisions these days, Soren also knew that she had to work alongside them for the time being if she wished to be there to keep Obi-Wan from suffering the same loss she had. And if she could do _anything_ to help him avoid such pain, she would. 

One of the Queen’s guards had come to talk to her and Obi-Wan late that evening, letting them know that Queen Amidala had contacted the Temple on Coruscant and told the Council what had happened. At least what she knew of what had happened. The Council had decided to send a couple members to do risk assessment. Even if they were coming under the guise of needing to speak with Obi-Wan, as if they couldn’t do that on a holocall. 

While Obi-Wan wasn’t physically injured enough to require a stay in the medical wing, Soren had still requested it of him at least for one night. Thankfully, the redhead was too exhausted to argue it for the time being and she’d arranged a more comfortable bed brought in for Obi-Wan. It had taken mere minutes for the redhead to fall asleep, his holopad falling to the bed next to him, his report unfinished. At least he would get some sleep.

Taking Anakin with her for the night, she hadn’t been all that surprised when the young blond woke her up crying in the middle of the night. She still remembered the nightmares that had plagued her when she was taken by the Order; and she’d only been a few weeks shy of four at the time. But Anakin...nearly ten years old and taken from everything he had ever known? It was definitely not a surprise that he was suffering. 

She had spent most the night holding Anakin, gently petting his hair and sending gentle waves of calm at him through the Force, encouraging the boy to get some sleep. He didn’t have the training to handle the lack of rest yet. Besides, he was too young to be going without sleep yet anyways. There was a reason that wasn’t taught as a skill until after a Padawan turned fourteen.

One of the Queen’s handmaids came to take Anakin with her to find something to eat. At least she’d agreed to have something sent up from the kitchens to the medical wing where Master Jinn and Obi-Wan were staying at the moment. 

Soren had spent the morning with Obi-Wan, talking with him more, learning about what he’d been up to since she’d left the Order. She had wanted to ask him about his relationship with Master Jinn, wanted to know how much they both knew of their connection. But as she spent time talking with her old friend, she realized that he honestly had no idea that any of this went deeper than his own feelings. Which wasn’t even really mentioned if one counted it by actual admission. 

He’d gotten flustered talking about this new planet with two races that wanted to join the Republic, the Mirraqui and Morshiini. It took her a few minutes to realize his embarrassment wasn’t from the peoples themselves, but because of some kind of ceremony that he and Master Jinn had been accidentally dragged into. He hadn’t gone into detail, but the vibrant flush to his cheeks gave him away all the same and she had to draw on her old training to keep from grinning at him. If only he’d understood what it was that he shared with Master Jinn… Alas, it wasn’t something she could tell him before he was ready to accept and embrace it. Pushing one towards their Balance could end quite badly. 

Though the Mirraqui term for their mates made her smile softly. Not from amusement, but because she clearly understood the term and found that it was honestly quite a charming way to reference one’s beloved. Comfort. If there was a better word, she couldn’t say she knew it. Even the term balance didn’t quite hold the same depth of intimacy that one’s _comfort_ spoke of.

That afternoon she’d taken Obi-Wan for a walk through the royal gardens, amusing him with all her little factoids about the multitude of plants they passed. While she was quite skilled with physical healing as well, her passion had been in plants and how they could affect the body for both good and bad. Obi-Wan had gotten suddenly exhausted after not quite an hour of walking with her and she was quick to guide him back to the medical wing. An explanation of overexertion leaving him more easily tired and rest being needed for him to recover kept him from asking too many questions even as she went to check on Master Jinn.

The bacta-suspended man’s vitals hadn’t dropped too much, at least they hadn’t left safe levels, but it had told her that she was right about needing to keep the two Jedi close to one another. She spent some time working with the Force, encouraging his cells to respond more rapidly to the Bacta in an effort to help him heal. The wound wasn’t black anymore, instead a bright pink as the Bacta and her Force healing worked towards healing his body. Though she knew it would be some time still before he was safe to come out of the Bacta tank. Let alone to be woken from the medications that kept him unconscious.

When she woke and made her way to check on her patients in the morning, she couldn’t help the fond smile that played over her lips when she spotted Obi-Wan laying in his bed with Anakin curled up to his chest. It explained why the young boy hadn’t come to bother her at least. And in a way, it was good for them both. A bond of familiarity would help them form their training bond later on if the Council gave him permission to train the boy as Master Jinn had asked of him. Soren would do what she could towards that end, but beyond that, she could only trust in the Force.

Breakfast was brought to them again, but this time Miss Padme stayed to eat with them instead of dragging Anakin away with her this time. Obi-Wan was a bit strange about it, somewhat awkward as he talked with the young lady. It wasn’t until after she’d left, Anakin following after her when she brought up that there were a few droids that could use some maintenance, that she figured out why. Apparently Padme was in fact the Queen and Soren suddenly understood why the Queen would place so much trust in her. She had helped Padme’s sister through some complications of her delivery and shown herself to be knowledgeable about the healing arts. Of course the Queen trusted her after that.

She got permission from one of the Queen’s guards to use the large room across the hall from the medical bay to spar with Obi-Wan. It would get his mind off of Master Jinn for a time whilst still keeping them close enough that the brunet’s health shouldn’t be affected. And that became their usual day pretty quickly, breakfast with Anakin and the Queen and then a sparring session in the morning, followed by a nap for Obi-Wan and Soren sitting and talking with Anakin for a while about what he could expect at the start of his training. That was followed with another afternoon training session when Obi-Wan woke, usually with Anakin sitting in a corner watching in awe as the two of them fought, and then dinner. Anakin liked to curl up on Obi-Wan’s bed with a holopad and read in the evenings while Obi-Wan and Soren talked about whatever came to mind at the time.

As the days passed, more and more often their discussions turned towards Master Jinn’s health, Obi-Wan needing her to tell him that the man in the Bacta tank was in fact still healing. Not that she would give up hope until long after Obi-Wan had. Their time spent wasn’t terribly eventful as far as she was concerned, but it had done enough to keep the redhead from spiralling into a depression as one was wont to do when their balance was pulling so heavily from them. 

The transport with the Council Delegates arrived a few hours earlier than expected and she had been forced to wake Obi-Wan. They made their way to the main entrance to the palace, Queen Amidala meeting them there with Anakin and her usual entourage. While she was quite good at hiding her emotions for the most part, Soren still had to put conscious thought into not scowling when Master Yoda stepped out of the transport only to be followed by Master Windu.

They had come alongside Senator Palpatine and the Senate Guards who were here to take the Neimoidians who had attacked Naboo into custody to stand trial before the Senate proper. The Queen was the one to deal with them while Soren stayed near Obi-Wan, monitoring him to make sure that his nap hadn’t been cut too short to be safe for either him or Master Jinn. She didn’t miss the slight narrowing of Master Windu’s eyes when he recognized her, but she also didn’t bother to react to it or to even bother reading into his look, just staying where she was half turned to be able to watch Obi-Wan for any micro-expressions that might give away the exhaustion that would mean it was time to guide him back to the medical wing.

Masters Yoda and Windu were still ignoring Obi-Wan when Soren noticed the first sign of this taking too long on the redhead. His eyes fell partially shut and his shoulders dropped slightly, but all of a couple seconds later he managed to straighten his shoulders and open his eyes fully again. Soren set a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and looked over to the Jedi Masters who were still conversing with the Queen and her men. She tugged gently at Obi-Wan’s shoulder, trying to encourage him to turn and walk away.

“They haven’t dismissed us.” His need for the Council members’ permission frustrated her, but she also knew that he was still loyal to the Order and so she forced herself to calm down.

“I am your doctor, Obi-Wan, and I’m saying you need to rest. They will find you when they are ready to speak with you, I’m sure.” Again she pulled at him, but this time she gently tried to encourage him with the Force as well.

Either her Force nudge had worked, or he was simply too exhausted to do anything else as he took in a slow deep breath before nodding. “Okay. I’ll rest and then meet with them.”

“Good.” She kept a gentle hand on his upper arm as they walked through the halls.

Obi-Wan was quiet save for a stifled yawn that he tried to cover with the back of one hand. Soren started to wonder if perhaps she should focus more on healing Obi-Wan than Master Jinn. If he were pulling so much from Obi-Wan, maybe lending extra energy to the redhead would make it easier on the redhead. Though today’s exhaustion might also have to do with the fact their usual training session had gone on nearly twice as long. And really, he wasn’t ready for that much exertion even if Master Jinn hadn’t been drawing on him to fight the draw of the Force.

Touching the Darkside always took its toll and without practice, it was like it was trying to take your life in trade for the power. It was something she hadn’t thought about until just now, and he was absolutely lacking the training to handle how deeply he had dipped into that power as he had to defeat the Zabrak. She could try to help him recover from that, could influence him with more Light, push the Dark away from him again. 

In fact, she set it as a task for herself as she settled Obi-Wan into his bed again. He’d demanded a promise from her that she wouldn’t let him sleep through the summons from the Council, but once she’d given her word, he had settled down easily. She dropped a kiss to her forehead just as she had when they were still in the Creche before she stepped back. 

Giving him time to fall asleep, Soren stepped over to the Bacta tank, checking on Master Jinn’s vitals and looking at his wound. Only her skills as a healer kept her from worrying more with how raw the hole looked. It meant it was healing, the skin flushed with blood as it worked at healing. Though she could admit that it didn’t look at all good so far. One hand pressing against the side of the tank, she let her focus track down the breathing tube. She fed a slow carefully modulated flow of the Force into the Jedi Master, just encouraging his cells to keep healing at their highest ability.

When she felt she’d done what she could for him for the moment, she looked over to Obi-Wan as she stepped back from the Bacta tank again. He wasn’t sleeping deeply, but he was asleep at least, his breathing mostly even as his hands twitched every so often. Just as she had in the Creche, she stepped forward softly singing in Sunese. The redhead settled some, but the tiny little grunt he gave had her reaching out with the Force as well, whispering peace and sleep to him, her voice never faltering even as she encouraged him to relax into the deeper sleep that he needed.

As short as the song was, a simple little lullaby of sorts from her homeworld, Soren didn’t let herself stop, starting it over again easily. It had always soothed Obi-Wan and Bant back in the Creche, and she figured it wouldn’t hurt now either. Trusting him to be deep enough asleep, she slowly sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to gently hold his hand. His Force presence was strong as usual, but she could feel the slight fluctuation that spoke of the connection he still shared with his Master. At least his eyes had settled back to green so she didn’t have to try to explain what was going on to the Council. 

Taking a short, though deep, breath, Soren pulled on the Force as she sang, gently sending soft waves of energy over the redhead. It wasn’t as invasive as what she’d done for Master Jinn, and she was quite certain that the redhead would appreciate that. Obi-Wan wasn’t nearly as hurt or drained as his Master was and didn’t need as much help. Still, she would do all she could for both of her patients.

Eventually, she stopped feeding his energy with her own. Even the song on her tongue slowly died out; though she kept the tune going on a soft hum. She couldn’t count the nights she’d sat and held either Obi-Wan or Bant as she sang or hummed to them, offering the younger Crechelings whatever comfort she could. After all, it wasn’t their fault that they’d been ripped from their families or that the lack of affection from the Creche Masters made it harder for the younglings to adjust.

Head snapping around when the door opened, one dark brow raised as she looked at the young woman standing in the doorway and her humming finally tapered off in favor of a softly spoken, “What do you need, Ta Tova?”

The young woman, who she suspected was close in age to the recently elected Queen, gave a slight bow to her. “I was sent to take Padawan Kenobi to the council.”

Soren gave a soft sigh but nodded all the same. “Then I will wake him and we’ll go with you.”

“Your presence wasn’t requested, Miss Soren,” She looked quite apologetic as she spoke and Soren felt somewhat bad for her, sure that she expected some kind of bad response with the nervousness that tainted the air with a bland tang such as that left after enjoying a tart drink.

“I am his physician. I am not leaving him alone, so I apologize and I hope I don’t get you in trouble, Ta Tova, but I _will_ be accompanying him to be sure he doesn’t overexert himself.” There was a confidence in her voice that few as young as she could manage, but there was absolutely not a single allowance for argument in Soren’s tone.

“Yes, Miss Soren.” The young lady gave another bow and after offering her a slight smile, she turned her attention to Obi-Wan.

Reaching out gently, she drug the backs of her fingers against the redhead’s cheek. “Time to wake up, Obi-Wan.”

As much as she preferred the nickname she’d used for him for more than a decade, she wasn’t certain that he would wake to it anymore. It had been a few years since she’d last been there with him after all. So it was his actual name that she used this time. Which seemed to be a good choice as those beautiful green eyes fluttered open slowly, Obi-Wan looking up at her in slight confusion for a moment before he woke enough to remember reality. She was glad to see he’d slept so deeply for the hour or so he’d been able to. Even if he’d not been able to sleep long enough to truly rest; at least it was better than nothing.

“Is it time?” He spoke softly, his jaw tensing just after the last word as he tried to hide a yawn.

Soren smiled softly at his attempt to hide his yawn and nodded. “Yes, Masters Yoda and Windu have requested our presence.”

Requested was not quite the right word, of that she was sure. She also suspected that if she told Obi-Wan that she had not been included in the summons would lead to him arguing her going along. And she knew she had a fight on her hands already, verbal as it might be, to convince the Council Members to allow her to return to Coruscant with them. 

Obi-Wan nodded, once again doing his best to suppress a yawn, and moved to sit up. The Sunese woman stood up from the edge of the bed, giving him room to swing his legs over and stand up as well. Though she stopped him once he was sitting up. His braid was looking rather raggedy and she reached out to tug at the long hair gently. 

“Might want to fix that before we go, Ta Mira Ki.” She could taste the sourness of his sadness and regretted having said something; she wasn’t sure what had caused the upset but she knew it had something to do with Master Jinn.

Obi-Wan sighed softly and tugged the small tie off the end of the braid. He finger combed the small section of wavy hair out before sectioning it out again. Though his sleep fumbled fingers struggled to start the new braid, not keeping the right amount of tension against his scalp. And while she had long taken her braid out, letting all of her hair grow evenly, Soren still reached out to tenderly grip his wrists when he gave a groan of frustration.

“Let me start it, Ta Mira Ki.” She could taste his reluctance, like a film upon the tongue dampening everything, but still he finally gave a gentle nod and loosened his hold on his. 

She took the three separated strands from him and quickly did as she’d offered, her fingers working deftly. Soren might only do her own hair occasionally, usually for the random soiree she was invited to by the Queen, but braiding wasn’t exactly hard. Her hands slid down the strands after each wrap, smoothing the hair with a touch of the Force as well to be sure it would look as tidy as possible for their meeting with the Jedi Masters. Even if she didn’t care what they thought of her these days, she knew that Obi-Wan cared and she would do what she could to see his wishes tended to as well.

While she’d simply offered to start it, Obi-Wan never reached up to take over the braiding. Though the taste of reluctance had faded, eclipsed by the too sharp tang of sadness again and she wished she knew how to fix it. She also wished that she knew exactly what had caused the sadness. Was he used to Master Jinn tending his braid for him? It wasn’t completely unheard of for a Padawan’s Master to help them tend their Padawan marks, but for it to have been done so often that Obi-Wan felt sad just because it wasn’t Master Jinn braiding his hair told her they shared at least this much intimacy regularly. 

She _had_ to keep the Force from reclaiming Master Jinn; no matter what it might cost her.

Down to the tiniest bits of hair finally, she pinched it off and held out her hand for the small tie that Obi-Wan was still holding. Soren quickly tied off the braid and out of habit leaned down to press a tender kiss to the top of his head. 

“Come along now, we shouldn't keep them waiting too long.” 

Obi-Wan gave a sharp nod and stood, looking to the young woman who had come to fetch them. “Please take us to Master Yoda and Master Windu.”

The young woman gave a short bow before turning and heading back out into the hallway. Soren and Obi-Wan followed after her, their steps all but silent even against the stone while the younger lady’s shoes made a soft, but clearly noticeable, tap with each step. Perhaps she wasn’t a Jedi any longer, but Soren had been one more than long enough to gain habits from the Order. Besides, the Sunese were a graceful people themselves, more in tune with the energy around them and feeling it’s ebb and flow guiding them along.

Thanks to the Queen allowing them to set up in the small medical wing that usually catered only to the Queen and her chosen few, it didn’t take them long to reach the diplomat meeting halls. Their guide opened the door, giving a deep bow to the Jedi Masters. Had Soren been a lesser woman, she might have been offended by the fact she’d been given such subtle bows. As it was, she understood the difference between the respect granted a mere healer and that granted to those of the Jedi High Council. Even she held respect for them without being part of the Order any longer.

“Padawan Kenobi and Healer Soren are here.” She spoke hesitantly before she straightened and stepped back into the hall to give Soren and Obi-Wan room to enter.

Obi-Wan walked into the room, hands tucking politely into his sleeves as he had learned from his Master when he bowed to the two Council members. Soren however, left her arms by her side, giving a bow of her own, though it wasn’t quite as deep as the last two they’d been given. She respected them, but she would not allow them to believe her cowed by their presence. 

“Miss Sadaki, you were not requested.” Master Windu spoke calmly, though there was a sharpness in his gaze and a faintly rotted taste, not completely unlike fruit on the urge of turning to alcohol, upon her tongue that spoke clearly of his disapproval.

“No, I was not, Master Windu.” Soren offered a faint smile, obviously unbothered by his disapproval. “However, I am physician to Obi-Wan and Master Jinn and I felt he should not come alone.”

“A threat to him, you believe us to be?” Master Yoda spoke but there was no offense in him, just a curiosity that lit up sweet upon her tongue.

“Of course not, Master Yoda,” Her voice was calm, though it lacked the usually audible smile. “But the fight with the Zabrak and his untrained attempt at intense Force healing have left him exhausted beyond what he has experienced before, so I am here to be sure that if a break is required, that it happens. Obi-Wan is unable to tell when he needs rest so far, which leaves me to make that decision for him.”

She saw the flush on Obi-Wan’s cheeks and caught the sharp almost burnt taste of his embarrassment. Without thinking, she reached out and set a gentle hand on his shoulder as she sent a wave of calm through the Force at him. None of this was his fault so he had nothing to be embarrassed by in her opinion.

“Please do not worry about me, Master Windu, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan offered a small bow to each of the Jedi Master’s in turn. “I am more than capable of having a conversation.”

Soren didn’t completely agree with him, but for the time being she brokered no argument.

“Tell us about this Zabrak you fought, Padawan Kenobi.” The order was clear in Master Windu’s voice even as he shifted in an attempt to get more comfortable in the carved marble chair.

“I believe it was the Sith that my Master fought on Tatooine.” Obi-Wan spoke calmly, though Soren could still taste his nervousness. “He led us down into the power generators. We did not know about the shield system around the generator. I was caught behind the shields and…” The redhead broke off to suck in a quick breath and that sharp bile taste at the back of her tongue returned as he obviously thought of the damage Master Jinn had received. “Master Qui-Gon attempted to fight him alone, it did not go as well as any of us would have hoped.”

“Is Qui-Gon dead?” Mace’s interruption was somewhat surprising to Soren as she wasn’t used to him interrupting debriefings, but the distress she felt from him told her that he wanted an answer as soon as possible and had no patience to wait.

“Not yet, Master Windu. I am doing all I can to make sure he survives.” Soren spoke calmly, making sure that she came across as the stable healer she was meant to be rather than the worried mess she was in regards to the older man and the effect his death would have on Obi-Wan.

Master Windu gave her a subtle nod before gesturing with one hand towards Obi-Wan, encouraging him to continue explaining what happened.

“I was able to defeat the Zabrak after the shields switched off once more and I was able to get close.” Obi-Wan was tense and Soren suspected he’d be fidgeting, perhaps pulling at his braid as he was wont to do. “Afterwards, I went to Master Qui-Gon. I was lucky that Soren arrived to keep him stable until we could get him in a Bacta Tank.”

If only that was all she’d had to do. Alas, there was so much more involved in what she was doing. And why Master Jinn had stayed as stable as he did for as long as he had. Still, that wasn't something she felt was necessary to try to explain to the Jedi Masters right now. Especially as she needed to find the best time, and way, to explain it to Obi-Wan first and that was going to take some time. She honestly had no idea how to even start the discussion with a non-Sunese.

“Took up the healing arts, you did, hmm?” 

Soren nearly rolled her eyes at Yoda’s question, but instead made herself give a simple nod. “Yes. I began my studies on Wilkala.”

“Then that is why you left the Order?” Master Windu may have pitched his voice to make it sound as if it were a question, but she knew it wasn’t really meant to be answered.

“Something like that.”

“I see.” Master Windu’s voice was flat and his attention slid back to Obi-Wan quickly. “We plan to leave tomorrow morning to take the Neimoidians back to the Courts for trial. We expect you to be on the transport as well.”

“Yes, Sir.” Obi-Wan started to bow, but straightened with a start when Soren spoke sharly next to him.

“That depends, Master Windu.”

The darker skinned Jedi Master lifted a brow slightly in question, his disapproval of being spoken to so sharply showing through. “On what, Miss Sadaki?”

Soren drew in a slow deep breath and made sure she spoke more calmly, knowing that if she challenged the Council members they wouldn’t agree with her. “Obi-Wan seems to have formed a bond between himself and his Master when he was trying to keep him alive. Until Master Jinn is more stable, he cannot be separated from Obi-Wan or he will deteriorate rapidly.”

Yoda’s eyes narrowed at her slightly and he responded slowly, “A bond, you say?”

“Yes, Master Yoda. One that is needed if Master Jinn is to recover in full.” Healing was her domain and she had no problem laying out facts about it. “Their bond affects Master Jinn’s healing.”

“How?”

She looked over to Master Windu at his question, trying to find the right words. “Master Jinn’s connection to the Force was damaged by the wound he received. Their training bond seems to allow him to guide the energy of the Force into his Master to enhance his healing beyond even what I can do.”

“Then we will take Qui-Gon back to Coruscant with us so that they can stay near each other until the Healers can break their bond. It should be dissolved soon anyway for Kenobi’s Knighting.” 

Mottled eyes narrowed at Master Windu’s words, but she still managed to hide her annoyance for the most part. “There are no Healers ready to deal with a wound like this on Coruscant.”

“Best suited, you think you are, hmm?” 

Her glare didn’t lighten in the slightest even as she looked to Master Yoda. “Yes, I do.”

The petite Jedi Master hummed softly in thought, looking almost through the Sunese woman as she stood there. Were she a lesser woman, she would have begun to fidget under the old Master’s scrutiny. As it was, she simply stood there, watching him in return, even her Force presence calm as she waited to see what he would say. There was little point in reacting before she knew what was going to be said. Either she would need to argue with them and fight for her right to accompany Master Jinn and Obi-Wan, or they would accept her. Until one or the other happened, there was little to be done.

It took several long moments, but finally Master Yoda gave a soft hum and nodded. “Come to Coruscant, you shall.”

“We do not-” Master Windu’s voice wasn’t exactly unkind, but it was firm, his clear conviction in what he wished to say obvious before Master Yoda silenced him with one hand raised.

“Sent her for a reason, the Force has. Trust it, you must.” 

Soren gave a slight smile and offered a small bow to Master Yoda before turning her attention back to Master Windu. “I am willing to accept whatever limitations you wish to place on me within the temple. I just wish to see Obi-Wan and his Master both alive and well.”

Dark eyes watched her for a moment before Master Windu spoke. “An escort at all times. You will only be given civilian access to the archives without permission from the Council. You will report to us daily about Qui-Gon’s state.”

“I request that Obi-Wan be my escort. It will make things easier to have less people in the healing hall with Master Jinn.” There was amusement on the air again, as if someone saw through her request, but she wasn’t sure who it was coming from.

“I would be willing to be her escort, Master Windu.” Obi-Wan gave a small bow as he spoke.

“Settled, it is.” The eldest of those present nearly seemed to smile as he spoke.

Master Yoda’s decision was clearly made about her and while Soren wondered what had made him believe in her so much, she also knew now was not the time to ask it. Instead, she gave another bow to the Masters, smiling softly at the fact she hadn’t been forced to fight for what she knew was needed. Though she would eventually have to find time to speak with Master Yoda as to why he believed in her so easily when he knew so little about her life or skills in the last several years since she left the Order behind.

“I would like to see Qui-Gon.” Master Windu stood and gestured with one hand, encouraging Soren to lead the way.

She nodded and turned towards the door, ready to lead all three Jedi back to the medical bay she’d been given for tending Master Jinn. Though Obi-Wan’s voice had her stiffening, turning on her heel to look at the redheaded Padawan she cared so much for.

“Master Yoda...about the boy…”

“Obi-Wan-”

Master Yoda lifted a hand, “Discuss this, we must. If rest he needs, get it, he shall. ”

While she worried some, she had no right to argue with Master Yoda, and so she instead gave a slow nod and a tight bow before making herself turn about. She would trust Obi-Wan with the petite Master for the time being. The moment that trust proved to be ill placed, she would revoke it without shame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunese Dictionary:  
> Ta Tova (tuh Toe-vuh) - Little One


	25. Return to Coruscant

Packing for the trip back to Coruscant hadn’t taken all that long. Jedi always travelled light after all. In fact, it was Anakin who’d had the most to take with him thanks to the clothes that the Queen had gifted him. Obi-Wan knew that he would have to help the boy pare down some of his new belongings eventually, but there was no point in risking upsetting the Queen after she’d been so kind as to provide the Bacta Tank for Qui-Gon.

Anakin had been surprised, but quite happy to hear that he’d be going to Coruscant to train as a Jedi. Even without a training bond the blond’s relief had been quite clear at the fact he wasn’t being left behind on Naboo. After all, it wasn’t like he could go back to Tatooine. Not when he wasn;t yet even ten and no longer a slave either. The child would have no way to support himself and no slave owner would allow their slave to take in a free child. No matter their genetic connection.

When the blond had run off to tell the Queen when they’d be leaving and start to gather his things, Soren had asked his help in getting Qui-Gon prepared to move to the ship. What neither of them had expected was the young handmaiden coming in and telling them that the Jedi Master would be moved late that night after the palace was cleared of civilians. 

Apparently the Queen and the Council members had decided that in case there was in fact a Sith problem, that it would be best if they allowed whoever the Zabrak’s Master was to believe that he’d killed Qui-Gon. While it was more likely that the Queen was the target, there was no way to guarantee that when the attacking Sith had fallen to his death down the power generator. So they had decided on running a fake funeral for Obi-Wan’s Master.

Soren had helped them get the scans to put the holotech on a body of one of the fallen soldiers to give those present the belief that it was Qui-Gon being burnt at the pyre. Obi-Wan had retreated to his bed, settling into a deep meditation, trying to prepare himself for the funeral. While he knew it wasn’t going to  _ actually _ be Qui-Gon, the fact that he would be forced to stand there and watch someone that looked like his beloved Master burn was heartbreaking. 

It took nearly all his effort to settle himself enough to be able to face the funeral. Even Soren’s attempts at soothing him did little. But he did appreciate the soft humming as she puttered around the room, knowing she did it because she cared. No matter the effort they both put into it, he’d still been too distressed to manage to eat his dinner. 

At least they managed to get Anakin to eat his dinner, the child easily trusting Obi-Wan in the same way he’d given his trust to Qui-Gon. He had no reason not to believe that Obi-Wan simply wasn’t hungry at the time. The discussion after dinner had been a little rougher, trying to explain to the young boy what was going to happen, that he couldn’t say anything about the fact Qui-Gon was in fact still alive. Anakin had struggled to understand  _ why _ the funeral was happening, but he’d been quick to agree to keeping quiet about it all the same. Especially after Soren had explained that part of it was to keep the Jedi Master safe while he healed.

The funeral itself had been about as emotional as Obi-Wan had expected and he was happy to be able to return to the medical bay with just Soren and Anakin after. He hadn’t allowed himself to cry, but he did spend several minutes standing in front of his Master’s tank, one hand pressed to the side as he focused on the fact Qui-Gon was still there. Still alive.

By the time he’d turned away from the tank, Anakin was curled up in Soren’s lap, head on her shoulder as he slept. She was petting the blond’s hair tenderly, softly singing the same song she’d always sang to Bant and Obi-Wan back in the creche. While he’d never spent the time to learn Sunese, he knew the words from the many times he’d heard her sing it. Without thinking, he started to softly hum along with Soren’s singing. 

Soren looked up at him, a smile on her lips and a tenderness in her eyes that encouraged him to smile back in response. While a Jedi was meant to break their emotions down and release them to the Force, the Sunese woman had always failed at that side of things. And right now, Obi-Wan was honestly rather happy with that fact. If only because it let him feel a little less guilty about the emotional turmoil he was suffering.

Of course it didn’t hurt anything that it gave Anakin someone to take at least a small portion of his mother’s control rather than making him suffer through being separated from his mother. After all, there was a reason that the Order rarely took in anyone beyond two years of age. And he couldn’t recall anyone besides Soren to be brought in at even age four. It was mentally damaging for children to be taken from everything they knew after a certain point due to the bonds they created. It was one of many reasons Obi-Wan hadn’t been happy about Qui-Gon deciding to buy the boy’s freedom from the slavers on Tatooine and bring him into the Order. He should have stayed with his mother; Force sensitive or not.

The child was now his burden to handle, and he would do his best to learn to adjust to this role. Obi-Wan had always assumed he would one day have Padawan of his own, but to go from  _ being  _ a Padawan to  _ having  _ a Padawan of his own in all of a week was more than he quite knew how to cope with. At least Soren was there, happy to help with the child. Honestly, he’d have to remind her not to let Anakin bond too intensely to her for fear of the same sort of hurt of taking him from his mother when the Order decided to rescind Soren’s welcome at the temple. After all, they’d only agreed to her presence for Qui-Gon’s sake. Once he was healed, they would ask her to leave.

It was going to be hard enough on Obi-Wan to watch her leave again, he didn’t know how he was going to handle his own upset on top of Anakin’s. And with the possibility still hanging over him that his beloved Master might never wake again, he felt as if he might break under all the pressures upon him. But for now, he would hold it all together and do his best to handle it as long as he could. He was a Jedi Knight now and he would play the role as well as he could.

He stepped over to the bed he’d claimed for himself, Obi-Wan stretched with a slight groan when his back shifted. It wasn’t painful, in fact it’d been good movement, the muscles releasing some as he started to relax. Laying down, he settled himself into a light meditation, making sure he stayed away from the heavier thoughts that wanted to drag him down towards the Force. Without Qui-Gon there to pull him back from the edge, he knew he could lose himself completely. He wouldn’t do that to Qui-Gon. If his Master were to awaken, Obi-Wan would be there too.

Time passed beyond his awareness as he let himself float in an attempt to forget his emotions so that he could try to be balanced rather than so on the verge of breaking. The sound of the door opening was plenty to wake him though and he sat up quickly, one hand falling to rest on his ‘saber before he realized it was just one of the Queen’s handmaids come to get them now that the passages had been cleared. Standing up, he moved over to the bacta tank and activated the repulsors. 

Anakin had slept through the door opening, and in a way Obi-Wan was glad. Sneaking through the Palace and down to the ship would be made easier without the young boy asking a million questions as they went. Soren kept Anakin cradled to her chest as she stood. She silently gestured towards the few small bags that held all their stuff and the handmaid bowed before grabbing the bags, leaving Soren to handle Anakin and Obi-Wan to handle his Master. 

The trip down to the hangar bay was thankfully uneventful, not a single person around until they reached the hangar. Obi-Wan didn’t even feel anyone until they neared the ships. He turned to head towards the Senate ship only to be stopped by a petite hand on his arm. Looking at the handmaid who was holding his arm, he lifted a brow.

“The Queen is taking him on her ship, sir, apologies, I thought they’d have told you.” She spoke barely loud enough for Obi-Wan to hear her, her shyness clear on her features.

“We appreciate it, thank you.” He smiled at her slightly before moving to load the tank with his Master onto the Nubian ship. 

Soren followed after him, still softly humming to Anakin to help keep him asleep. They all made their way to the Nubian cruiser, Obi-Wan pushing the Bacta tank with his Master up into the ship. He let the handmaiden deal with Soren and Ani while he took Qui-Gon into the onboard medical wing. Getting the tank strapped in place for the trip, he took a moment to rest, leaning into the coolness of the transparisteel. 

If he could trade places with his beloved Master, he would in a heartbeat. Alas, life didn’t let you make such decisions as that and he was forced to wait this out and beg the Force not to take Qui-Gon away from him. Not like this. Not so damn soon. He hadn’t even been fully Knighted yet. 

Blinking back tears, he let himself send another plea to the Force, silently begging it to not take his Master yet. It took him a while to gather himself together enough that he could go find out where everyone else had ended up without them being likely to question the distress he knew that Soren, at least, would be able to feel.

Obi-Wan found Soren in the mess hall, sans Anakin, and he went to sit with her. “Put him to bed?”

“Mmhmm,” Soren’s voice was soft as she spoke, swirling her cup even if it looked to hold nothing but water; it was a form of fidgeting he remembered from their time in the Creche

“Something wrong?”

“Hmm?” Mottled eyes finally raised to his face and Soren smiled a little, shaking her head. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“You’re my friend, Soren, you can talk to me.” Obi-Wan knew they weren’t as close as they had once been, both missing out on years of the other’s life, but he hoped she still felt they were friends as well.

Her gaze softened, affection shining through easily as she looked at him. “I’m just worrying about things.”

“Such as?”

“Whether Master Jinn will recover. How I can best assist him in that recovery. How Ani will adjust to life in the temple…” Obi-Wan nodded his understanding of Soren’s worries.

He had the same worries. He was afraid he could do nothing for his Master and that Qui-Gon would die all the same even if they’d kept him stable for a while. He was afraid Anakin wouldn’t settle into life among the Order and would be sent on to Agricorps since they couldn’t exactly send him back to Tatooine now that he was a free child. No slaver would let him live in their properties when he made them no money. Regardless of if Shmi was still making them profit or not.

Soren was silent for a long moment, watching the water in her cup swirl before she looked back up at the redhead, “And how you will adjust to life with Ani.”

Green eyes narrowed slightly in confusion as he tried to figure out what she meant before he finally admitted, “I don’t understand what you mean…”

“He is too old to be happy without any connection-”

“It is the way of the Order, he will learn.” The Jedi hadn’t meant to interrupt her, but it’d just slipped out.

Sadness creeped into her gaze as she shook her head softly. “No, he won’t, Ta Mira Ki. I wish he could, I do, but there is a  _ reason _ the Order takes infants.”

“You were four…”

“Yes, and I struggled with my need for connection. Why do you think I was always taking care of you and Bant?” Soren sipped at her water before starting to swirl the cup again.

Obi-Wan had no way to argue that. She had always cared so much for him and Bant and even now, her care for him had driven her to arguing with the Jedi Council itself about taking care of Qui-Gon. Sighing softly, he scrubbed a hand over his face.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Be his person. Let him trust you, be the one he goes to when he’s upset, the one he knows cares about him.” Soren spoke easily, as if it were obvious and the only reasonable answer. “He’s been ripped away from everything he’s ever known, you need to give him that stability back.”

Obi-Wan was silent as he considered her words, staring down at his lap. Forming a connection was forbidden by the Jedi Code and the redhead had done nothing in his life beyond trying to be the best Jedi he could possibly be. And yet...could he deny that he had already broken the code?

“I can’t break the code...not-” He broke off, cheeks heating with his embarrassment.

“Not again?” There was a slight smile on her face when his head snapped up, wide green eyes staring at her almost wildly. Soren sighed softly, reaching out to cup his cheek. “Your connection to Master Jinn is what kept him alive, Ta Mira Ki, don’t give up on it now.”

“I don’t-”

“Do not lie to me.” Her voice was sharp and Obi-Wan felt guilty immediately. “I know the connection you share with him is powerful or you could not have kept him alive long enough for me to get to him.”

“I can’t- you can’t- please don’t-” The panicked stuttering couldn’t be helped even as she stroked her thumb tenderly along the edge of his cheekbone.

“I am not part of the Order, Obi-Love. I have no responsibility to tell them. I have no  _ interest _ in telling them more than they must know.” After all, she’d sited their connection as why Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had to be kept together.

Nodding slowly, Obi-Wan’s eyes clenched shut, voice wavering slightly. “I don’t know how to let Anakin in.”

“We will learn. Together.” Qui-Gon still had a lot of healing to do before Soren would be leaving the Temple. “I will help you. But you have to meet me part way, you have to  _ want _ to let Ani in.”

Taking in a slow, deep breath, Obi-Wan nodded. “We can’t let the Order know.”

“I won’t tell them.” The promise was clear in her voice just as it was in her eyes.

“I will do my best, Soren.” 

She chuckled softly, “That is all anyone can ask of you.”

They spent the next hour or so visiting and discussing things that had changed at the Temple and things that hadn’t. Soren was excited to get to see Master Nu and her assistant Kai again when she learned that neither of them had changed their posts. Or in Master Nu’s case, passed onto the Force.

Eventually, as they began to set one another off with yawns, Soren told Obi-Wan that he’d been given the room next to the medical bay so that he was close to Qui-Gon. She and Anakin were apparently sharing the double room across from Medical. Bidding her a good night, he headed off down the hall while she took care of her cup. 

Though he stopped off to see his Master one last time, checking that the older man was still stable before he headed off to bed. It took much too long, even after he forced himself into a meditation, to manage to relax enough to sleep. 

He slept fitfully, nightmares of the fight with the Zabrak flooding his subconscious again. Thankfully, the trip back to Naboo didn’t really require anything from Obi-Wan and so he was free to rest as he would throughout the days. He spent the majority of his time in the medical bay, just being near his Master as if that would do anything to help the man heal.

Though he was careful to make at least a couple hours a day for Anakin, trying to be supportive as Soren had suggested. He realized that Anakin was a very smart young man, even if his reading skills weren’t nearly as comprehensive as most Padawan’s were by his age. Soren and he took turns having the boy read out loud to them, helping him recognize what things he got wrong and praising him when he did well.

By the time they’d reached Coruscant a week later, Obi-Wan actually felt as if he might make it as Anakin’s Master. He was still scared that he would mess up, that he would break if Qui-Gon didn’t make it, all the ‘what if’s building in his mind to the point he had to meditate them away a couple times a day. But, he was determined to try. Of all the capable Jedi, he was the only one he could trust to be what Anakin needed.


	26. Settling Into a New Normal

Life at the Temple should have been easy for Obi-Wan.

It was not.

Even though he was back home and able to go to the quarters that had been his for the last decade, that didn’t mean he could actually relax. He’d wanted to go crawl into his own bed and cry himself to sleep now that he’d have a locking door. But with two other people to sleep, he had to come up with some kind of solution. Especially after Master Windu had refused to allow Soren to be housed somewhere else. Apparently his escort duties were twenty-four/seven.

He would have loved crawling in his own bed, but that would have meant letting Soren or Ani sleep in Qui-Gon’s room. And he couldn’t do that to his Master. There were private things in the older man’s room and Obi-Wan knew that his Master wouldn’t be fond of anyone digging through his things. Which left Obi-Wan to take over his Master’s rooms for the time being while Soren gave Ani Obi-Wan’s room and took the couch.

What he hadn’t expected, was just how _deeply_ he slept that first night. Of course a large portion of that was probably due to the crying jag he’d had when he first curled up under the blankets as his mind shifted to all the possibilities. As a Jedi, the thought of losing Qui-Gon should not have led to tears. As a young man who was completely in love with their Master, he’d had no chance to stop those tears.

The tears came almost nightly, no matter how Obi-Wan tried to let his worries go to the Force. Every time he instinctively reached for his training bond with his Master and felt just how _muted_ it was right now, pain lanced through him and drew tears to his eyes. Night after night, he found himself curling up in a ball, face pressed into Qui-Gon’s pillow as he cried, biting his lower lip to make sure he stayed silent. Even if he knew that the rooms were nearly sound proof, he didn’t dare risk anyone hearing him cry.

Of course, the gentleness and sadness in Soren’s gaze every morning when she greeted him told him that silent or not, her empathy meant she was aware of the pain he’d faced the night before. Thankfully, she never seemed to believe it was necessary to speak about it. Obi-Wan was happy to ignore it, pretend it never happened, and that his heart didn’t ache every time he thought about his Master.

Breakfast tended towards being strangely lively in Obi-Wan’s opinion, but then he’d been raised in the Order rather than being suddenly brought in at nearly ten years old. So perhaps Anakin’s babbling made sense as he questioned every new thing he learned. Though, if it weren’t for Soren, he likely would have ended up overwhelmed by the millions of questions the young boy asked. She had more patience than even some of the Creche masters when dealing with Anakin, almost always smiling as she answered his questions.

Part of him had worried to start with about allowing her to answer the questions the boy posed, but she never spoke harshly of the Order in front of Anakin. She answered his questions calmly, factually, explaining where the beliefs and practices came from whether she agreed with those views or not. And at least a couple of them he knew she didn’t like at all.

Of the two of them, Soren was the first to realize that Anakin’s reading was pretty limited to Huttese which made Obi-Wan realize that he really needed to get better at paying attention to his Padawan. He had a job to do; he was supposed to be aware of his Padawan’s strengths and weaknesses and help him improve those weaknesses. A trip to the archives and a discussion with Master Nu had led him to Kai, one of the archive helpers, who helped them find good starting books and worksheets to give Anakin to help him with Aurebesh. 

The boy seemed to have a good mind for learning new letters. After all, they knew he could speak basic, he’d just struggled to read it over the Huttese that was much more common back on Tatooine. He had picked it up quickly, other than a slight struggle with words that didn’t follow the same pronunciation format as Huttese words. From there, they worked on bringing his knowledge base up as close to that of the other Padawan.

Obi-Wan made sure to spend a few hours a day doing physical training; teaching Anakin how to feel and use the Force, how to meditate (not that that particular endeavour was going well), how to hold a saber. But they all spent the majority of their time in the medial bay that Qui-Gon’s bacta tank had ended up in. The Jedi Knight found he didn’t feel as on edge when he was able to sit near his Master and keep an eye on the healing man’s vitals, so it was easier for him to keep his frustration over Anakin’s incessant questions better contained.

How Soren never ran out of patience for Anakin was something that the redhead would never understand. But he appreciated her assistance with his Padawan. Which made him question if he should have promised to train the boy. He wasn’t ready to be a Master, wasn’t nearly experienced enough to teach yet. However, he had given Qui-Gon his word and that was one thing he refused to break no matter what.

Soren gave her daily updates to the Council as requested and in a way, Obi-Wan appreciated that he’d been tasked with being her escort as it meant he got to hear each update as well. Though he did sometimes question if she wouldn’t get herself banished with the sass she threw at the Council every so often. Even if he agreed with her frustration at them wanting more details beyond ‘he is continuing to heal,’ Obi-Wan also knew that the Council had the right to expect respect from those they spoke with. 

Jedi or not.

It was the updates on Anakin’s training that always stressed the Knight out. He always feared that he wasn’t doing enough, that Anakin was falling further behind his new peers. But each time, the Council simply accepted his updates and praised him for working as hard as he was. Which made him wonder; would he have gotten that same praise if they knew how much Soren was helping him? Still, he didn’t want to fail the Order any further than he already had with his attachment to Qui-Gon and so he kept silent on the matter. If Soren wished them to know, she could tell them and he would face the consequences whatever they might be.

He figured that Soren would likely always be closer to Anakin, if only because she could fully embrace her emotions rather than releasing them to the Force, but he was doing his best to bond with the child as well. At least as far as he felt he could under the Code. Anakin usually went to Soren when he had nightmares but occasionally he still found himself waking to a softly sobbing child when the door to the bedroom hissed open.

Those nights, he welcomed Anakin into his arms, holding the boy and reminding him that nightmares couldn’t actually hurt him. He had heard that some would tell younglings that dreams were no more than that, _dreams_. Obi-Wan, however, didn’t have it in him to risk lying to Anakin. The boy deserved the same honesty from the Master he’d been stuck with as he would have gotten from Qui-Gon and there was no guarantee that his dreams weren’t visions of the future. Anakin would be far from the first Jedi to dream of the future after all.

They ate their meals together daily, Soren ordering in something special at the end of each week for dinner. The first time she’d done so, Obi-Wan had worried about the Council being angry that they’d spent money so frivolously. Up until she’d laughed, reaching out and ruffling his hair as she had when they were in the Creche, and explained that she had quite a good chunk of savings and that she wasn’t spending a dime of the Order’s money. After that, he issued no complaint.

Or at least, little complaint.

And that was only when Soren had ordered in from a Wilkalian restaurant and he’d opened up the first container to find some kind of dried worm. When necessary, he didn’t mind eating bugs. But here, on Coruscant, in the Temple of all places, he saw no reason to subject himself to that. Again she had laughed, teasing him about being picky.

Anakin had joined in on the teasing as he made a show of eating the worms, crunching them and making exaggerated noises of enjoyment. Honestly, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure whether the boy had actually enjoyed the Wilkalian food, or if he’d simply enjoyed teasing his Master enough to eat them either way. He rather hoped it was the second.

Settling into a routine with his new Padawan and one of his oldest friends took much less effort than Obi-Wan had originally expected. Not to mention the way it kept him from sinking too deeply into his distress over his Master’s health. Or lack there of.

Without Soren, Obi-Wan doubted he'd have ever managed to bond with his Padawan. As it was, he had managed to form some kind of bond with the child. Even if they were still lacking a strong training bond so far. There were hints of the bond to one another, but Soren said that Qui-Gon was still using the original training bond with the redhead to heal and thus he wasn't able to form a full bond with Anakin yet. Obi-Wan just hoped she was right and that when his Master woke up again, that it would free him up for bonding with his Padawan. Even if part of him hated the mere idea of severing the bond he had with Qui-Gon. Not like he had a choice though; he was a Knight now and had responsibilities beyond his connection to his Master. 

Escorting Soren along to the Council chambers, Obi-Wan had to drag himself away from his worries as they approached the doors. Drawing in a slow deep breath as he tried to push away his feelings into the Force, he wasn't too surprised that Soren had slowed down with him. She was always very aware of those around her; had tried to explain her empathy to him when they were young and he hadn't understood. Maybe it would make more sense now that he was older.

"You'll be ok, Ta Mira Ki." She spoke softly, a slight smile playing on her painted lips as she reached out to grasp his shoulder gently. "I promise."

Nodding stiffly, Obi-Wan forced a tight smile to his lips. "Of course I will."

Her smile disappeared, her mottled eyes narrowing and her hand shifted suddenly from his shoulder to yank at his braid. "I don't want platitudes, Obi-Wan, nor do I give them. I do not follow the Order, what I say is honest. I expect the same from you."

Her requirement of honesty was truly the most draining thing about being around her day in and day out after decades of being taught to release one's emotions and to put the sake of the Order above everything else. “I’m sorry, Soren. I’m trying to be okay.”

Smile tipping her lips again, Soren nodded and patted the side of his face tenderly. “I know. Just trust me, everything is going to be okay.”

She waited only long enough for Obi-Wan to give a nod before she swiped her hand in front of the panel for the doors that would let the Council know they had arrived. As if they wouldn’t be aware of the Force sensitive individuals standing there anyways. In support of that fact, it took mere heartbeats for the doors to slide open, welcoming them into the Council chambers.

Obi-Wan drew in another deep breath to help center himself and push aside his worries about his Master so that he could face the Council with a calm befitting of a Knight. Soren wasn’t so bothered with seeming calm, happy to be herself even among the Council members. She was just a bit less sassy and somewhat more respectful when speaking to them. Which Obi-Wan was beyond grateful for as he was certain that, while Master Yoda wouldn’t mind it too much, the majority of the Council members would take offense to her usual way of speaking. And they needed the Council’s favor if they wanted to have her continue caring for Qui-Gon.

“Any updates?” Mace was always one to skip right to the point and it seemed that after over two months of daily updates of nothing changing, he had learned to just ask if there was any change.

Bright teal painted lips curled into a happy smile and Soren nodded, “Yes, I plan to pull Master Jinn from the Bacta today.”

Head snapping to the side to stare at the Sunese woman with wide eyes, Obi-Wan wished that she’d warned him of that before now. It would have made it much easier to hide away his relief and anticipation as to what would happen once his Master was out of the tank. They’d finally be able to take him off the medications that kept him comatose while submerged in the Bacta.

“Healed, he is?” Master Yoda ignored the shocked Knight, focusing on Soren entirely; then again she was the healer.

“Physically, yes.”

“Worried you are.”

“Yes, Master Yoda.” Soren nodded easily as she spoke, not nearly as on edge as Obi-Wan every time he had to interact with the Council.

“Why?” Mace spoke up, eyes narrowed slightly.

“I can heal the body, but I do not trust that I can heal the mind.” She glanced over at Obi-Wan, apology in her eyes.

“What does that mean?” It wasn’t truly his place to ask, but Obi-Wan couldn’t help the way the words slipped out nor the way he was sure his worry was flooding the room; the Council had to be aware of it.

“It means that he has to _want_ to come back to us. If he is no longer grounded in this life, his soul will move on no matter how healthy I keep his body.” Her voice was thick with emotion and she reached out to grab Obi-Wan’s shoulder again as she looked back to Master Yoda and Windu. “I promise I will do all I can though. I am not giving up on Master Jinn until I know for certain he’s moved on.”

“We trust your abilities, Soren,” Obi-Wan was glad to hear Master Windu say so. “Let us know how it goes.”

“Of course, Master Windu.” Soren gave a respectful nod. “If it’s alright, I’d like to go set up for pulling Master Jinn out of the Bacta.”

Windu gestured vaguely with one hand, giving them permission and Obi-Wan was on Soren’s heels as they headed out of the chambers. Following after the Sunese woman, the redhead couldn’t help but fidget, tugging lightly at his braid as he walked with her. They were pulling Qui-Gon out of the Bacta finally, but there was no guarantee that healing his body had done _anything_ in regards to bringing his Master back from the brink of death. Silent as he walked, he chewed at the inside of his lip, praying to the Force, _pleading_ with the Force, to please just let him have his beloved Master back.


	27. A Need for Hope

“Alright, make that bed please,” Soren tossed the sheets at Obi-Wan as she spoke, gesturing towards the bare bed closest to the Bacta tank.

Pushing back his worries, knowing he couldn’t release them without meditation, he nodded and set about the task he’d been given. Obi-Wan used the physical task to center himself, making him focus on the present as his Master had always encouraged him. Be mindful of the future, but do not let it eclipse the now. He only placed the bottom sheet on the bed, setting the top sheet off to the side for the moment, wanting to make it as easy as possible for them to get his Master on the bed.

“Towels.” The word gave him only a heartbeat of notice to catch the towels that Soren was now throwing his way.

Head tipping a bit in question, Obi-Wan looked to his friend in confusion until she pointed at the bed. Right, he’d be wet from the Bacta, easier to tug a few towels out from under him than to try to replace the sheet under him. Damnit, he needed to clear his head and _think_ rather than acting like a senseless crecheling again. Though, as she always had, Soren didn’t seem to have any less patience than she had for him way back then.   
  
Once he’d layered all the towels she’d thrown at him on the bed, he pushed it closer to the Bacta tank. “Now what?”

Normally, he would have just gotten out of the way of the team who would take care of whoever was in the Bacta tank. But Soren hadn’t trusted any other doctors in the room with them. She hadn’t allowed anyone besides Obi-Wan and Ani in the room for long at all. Even the Masters Windu and Yoda only got to visit for a short while. Which meant that she must know how to do this with just the two of them.

“Now, we get him out of here and start letting the drugs process out of his system.” Soren tapped away at the controls for the tank until the Bacta started to drain away back into the attached holding tanks. “This is where you’ll come in, Ta Mira Ki,” The normal gentle expression she gave him was gone, one of intense focus in its place. “Normally there would be a team to help us, but I don’t trust that many people interacting with him right now. So it’s just us. That means you need to work with me as we lift him.”

“Should I take his shoulders?” Obi-Wan really wasn’t sure what the best way to do this was, but he trusted Soren to know what to do.

She scoffed softly, shaking her head as her lips curled into a faint smile of amused exasperation. “You Jedi and your silly rules...gotta think outside the box sometimes, Ta Mira Ki. We’re going to work together and use the Force to move him. It keeps everything smooth so there’s no muscle strain for any of us.”

Obi-Wan almost complained about her first few words, but as she explained what she wanted him to do, it made sense. He was guilty of sticking to the normal way of doing things and really wasn’t that great at thinking beyond that. It was something Qui-Gon got onto him about rather regularly as well. 

“Understood.” Obi-Wan watched her closely as she turned back to the Bacta tank and tapped another button that had the transparisteel front swinging open.

She held out her hands in front of herself, standing on the opposite side of the bed from Obi and glanced at him, “Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, now.” 

Together, they focused on the brunet and lifted him from the tank, Soren carefully moved the IV lines and breathing tubes around so that they didn’t put tension on any of them. Slowly, they moved him over the bed and Obi-Wan was glad that she had possessed the foresight to lay out towels first as he was quite literally dripping Bacta. They lowered Qui-Gon onto the bed slowly, making sure not to jostle him much. 

“Thank you, Ta Mira Ki.” Soren spoke softly as she stepped towards the head of the bed, pulling a tray behind her via the Force with some simple gauze. “Do me a favor and get a basin of warm water and a couple small towels.” 

She gestured towards one of the banks of cupboards before her hands dropped down to the IVs in Qui-Gon’s arm. The medications she’d put the Jedi Master on to keep him under while he healed had included a minor paralytic so that he wouldn’t twitch and blow out the vein. She removed one of the IVs and placed a bit of gauze over it, holding it in place with a firm press of her thumb.

“The cupboard next to that one,” Obi-Wan set one hand on the cupboard to the left as he set the towels down on the countertop. “Nope, other way,” He touched the one to the right. “Yes, there’s some antibacterial soap there too.”

Obi-Wan nodded and started reading the bottles, wishing they had a medical droid in here as well to help with the fetching of things. At least the droid would have known which bottles were what without having to read them all. Alas, Soren had snarled the first time a droid had come in to help her and then gone off at the Council members about asking her before they tried to interfere with her work. She’d said something about Qui-Gon needing human influence only. Not that Obi-Wan had fully understood. But the Council must have as they hadn’t argued with her about it either.

Finally finding the antibacterial soap she’d requested, he set it next to the towels and moved to fill the basin with hot water. Looking over his shoulder, he frowned slightly seeing her start a new IV line in Qui-Gon’s upper arm. He had hoped that his Master would be in better shape than this by the time he was pulled from the Bacta. At the same time, she had said she couldn’t heal the mind as easily as she had his body. 

Was he still going to lose his Master?

Breath catching for a moment, he gripped at the edge of the countertop as he tried to ground himself. Now was not the time to cry. There were other things that were more important than feelings he honestly shouldn’t be experiencing anyways.

“Just breathe, Ta Mira Ki.” Soren’s voice was soft, just loud enough to carry to his ears, the same soothing tone she’d used on him so many times back in the Creche.

Drawing in a slow deep breath in through his nose, he let it out through his mouth, trying to push aside those feelings. At least with her not being part of the Order any more he didn’t have a lecture coming his way when he calmed down. That had always been something he’d worried about with her empathy until now.

When he finally calmed down enough to open his eyes again, he realized he had definitely overfilled the basin and winced slightly. Well, it wasn’t like the water wasn’t cleaned and recycled anyways. He shut off the facet and dumped out part of the water so it could be safely carried. Snagging one extra towel to wipe down the outside of the basin, he carried it over to the tray next to Soren. 

She was just pulling the breathing tube from Qui-Gon’s throat as Obi-Wan joined her at the bedside. “Thank you.”

Obi-Wan gave a soft hum in response, watching his Master’s face. With the breathing apparatus removed, he could nearly convince himself that Qui-Gon was simply sleeping. At least for a few seconds before his mind reminded him that Soren had said that the Jedi Master had to _want_ to wake up, to come back to the land of the living. That was something he just...wasn’t certain about. Did Qui-Gon want to wake up? Did he want to just let go and become one with the Force? Was he going to just have to watch his Master die no matter what Soren did for him?

“Obi-Wan,” Soren’s voice was soft but firm, pulling green eyes to her face, the softness in her gaze telling him that she knew where his mind was at right now. “We are going to do everything we can for him. You just need to believe in him, trust that he will come back to you.”

Biting at the inside of his lower lip, the redhead gave a slow nod. He wasn’t completely sure he could fully believe that this would be enough, but he hoped it was. Fetching the towels and soap, he brought them over to the tray as well. And as much as he should have realized what the water was for, he still found his cheeks flushing suddenly when she poured some of the soap into the water and his mind finally registered that Qui-Gon needed to be cleaned up.

Stepping back a little bit, he ducked his head slightly in his embarrassment. Only for Soren's bright laugh to draw his gaze away from his Master and his cheeks felt even warmer she met his eye, painted lips curled in amusement.

"You don't have to help, Ta Mira Ki, I can handle his bath." As she spoke, the medic dipped a towel in the basin to dampen it.

"I can help I just-" Obi-Wan broke off, trying to find the words to explain how he felt about helping wash his unconscious Master.

"You just feel strange about touching him without his permission. Which is perfectly understandable. If it were Nikoti on this table in an induced coma and unable to consent, I'd feel the same way. But he needs the Bacta off his skin before it dries and causes sores. So as his doctor, I will take care of it. Now, you, outside."

"But the Council-"

"Will understand me respecting Master Jinn's privacy as much as possible. Besides, there’s only one way in or out of this room. Now shoo, Ta Mira Ki, before I have to get Bant in here."

Obi-Wan held up his hands in surrender, smiling softly at Soren. "Okay, okay. Just let me know when you're done."

"Uh-huh," The brunette nodded easily as she started to wipe the Bacta from Qui-Gon’s chest. "Now out."

Stepping out of the room, he leaned against the wall next to the door. As many times as he and his Master had been forced to change around each other on missions, he was still flustered at the idea of seeing the man fully naked. Especially when, as Soren had said, he couldn’t consent to it. Let alone being touched by his Padawan. Of course the older man would likely not see the issue, these feelings were Obi-Wan’s to struggle with not Qui-Gon’s.

Still, he was honestly relieved that Soren had made him leave. It saved him from the guilt that he knew would drown him if he had been forced to help clean the older man. He’d never been so free to touch his Master and he couldn’t let himself do it with Qui-Gon so sick. Whether the Jedi Master was healed physically or not, Obi-Wan still couldn’t think of the brunet as healthy. Not when he there was still a possibility that he would pass on.

Slowly sinking down to the floor, he settled into a meditation form. He had to let some of this go before anyone besides Soren noticed his attachment to his Master. It was unacceptable, but he’d never been able to fully let it go. Maybe if Qui-Gon would just _wake up_ he could try to find a way to let go. But right now, the thought hurt too much. So instead, he simply took the edge of the feelings, the ones that threatened to drive him over the edge, and released that to the Force. It was enough to let him breathe again and that was what mattered for now.

“Obi-Love?” Soren’s voice was soft, but drug him quickly back to reality in a way that the door hissing open hadn’t.

Blinking a couple times, he looked up at her. “Done?”

“Mmhmm, thought you might help me with his beard though, you know his style much better than I do.” She smiled warmly down at him as she spoke, leaning against the doorframe.

Nodding, Obi-Wan stood up and waited for her to slip back into the room before he followed after her. She was right about Qui-Gon’s beard; the Jedi Master was quite picky about his beard when not mid mission. But she was also right that Obi-Wan was the best suited to trim it down since he had memorized every single thing about his Master’s face.

Soren had already set out a set of trimmers on the tray that had previously held the basin of water. Where she’d gotten them, Obi-Wan wasn’t certain, but it was handy either way. This would go much faster with the trimmers than a pair of scissors. Picking up the trimmers, he flicked it on for a moment to adjust to the vibration before he turned to face Qui-Gon. The man looked peaceful and the redhead doubted that was supposed to hurt so much. This was a fake peace, this didn’t mean Qui-Gon was going to give up.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned in closer over the older man. While he had shaved his own face in the past, Obi-Wan couldn't help the nervousness that hit at taking the trimmers to his Master’s face. Even though there was no way any blades could make contact with the brunet’s skin, the redhead still worried. But at least he could try to help clean up the mess that over two months in a Bacta tank had left the Jedi Master. Hopefully he wouldn’t screw up and be forced to take his Master down to skin.

Obi-Wan honestly didn’t have much experience, or any at all, at trimming a beard. His own grew in patchy and he kept his jaw clean because of it. But that wasn’t Qui-Gon’s normal, so he would do his best to avoid making it a necessity. 

The redhead worked slowly, taking just a little bit off at a time, not willing to risk any lines being too deep. Soren left him to it, that soothing hum filling the near silence of the room as she started cleaning the Bacta tank. Obi-Wan was more focused on this than he had been anything in quite some time; probably since the moment that Qui-Gon had been run-through. When he finally finished, he stood up straight, a soft groan passing from his lips when his back popped.

“You up to doing his nails too?” She was still scrubbing the Bacta tank down and hadn’t even bothered to look at the redhead.

“Sure…”

“Clippers are in the first drawer to the right of the sink.” She pointed to it one handed, still not taking her focus away from where she was working.

Nodding, not even thinking about the fact she couldn’t see the motion, he went and dug out a pair of nail clippers. Doing his Master’s nails was much less nerve wracking than dealing with his beard. At least nails were simple enough and he’d taken care of his own many times as well so it wasn’t something quite so unknown.

When he was done, he pulled the chair over next to the bed his Master was on. It didn’t need to sit next to the Bacta tank anymore after all. Sinking down into it, he watched the brunet closely, not noticing how his breathing slowed to match his Master’s. He didn’t even realize he was drifting off.

At least until a hand gently squeezed his shoulder, yanking him back to the present. “C’mon, Ta Mira Ki, Ani will be wanting dinner soon.”

Blinking blearily at her for a few moments, Obi-Wan nodded and slowly stood up. Stretching, he groaned softly as his back complained at the slumped position he’d been asleep in. Thankfully, his body was used to less than favorable places for sleeping and stretching a little further got everything to realign and relax for him. He was able to suppress the yawn that wanted to escape as he followed Soren to their quarters, trusting her to figure out some kind of meal for the three of them.

While he’d been working on being more present with his Padawan, Obi-Wan simply hadn’t had the energy to keep up with Ani’s babbling that night. He’d let Soren engage with the young boy, her motherly instincts a gift from the Force when Obi-Wan simply felt exhausted. As usual, she’d been aware of his emotional and mental state as well and had offered to take care of Ani for the evening so he could go to bed. It didn’t quite feel like he was getting sick, but he also wasn’t going to say no to the chance for rest either.

Slipping off to Qui-Gon’s room, he crawled in under the blankets, and with a few deep breaths, drifted off to sleep. Not that he got as much rest as he had hoped to. Instead, he woke with his Master’s name upon his lips and a mess in his trousers. Groaning in annoyance at the cooling dampness in his pants, the redhead sat up and glanced at the clock on the desk. Of course he had to wake up in the middle of the night because of an abundance of hormones.

Hoping that he could avoid waking Soren since she still slept on the couch, he grabbed a set of clothes from the pile he kept on Qui-Gon’s desk and headed to the ‘fresher. He stripped quickly, tossing all his clothes into the cleaner. One of the things that he loved about being on Coruscant was the real running water available. There was little better than hot water streaming down over oneself, rinsing away all the dirt. 

Obi-Wan rinsed his body and then washed his hair quickly, not bothering to fight with his Padawan braid right now. It needed redone, badly, but he didn’t know he could face that right now. Ignoring the existence of the braid was easier on his heart right now. After all, he’d been knighted. He wasn’t supposed to have this braid anymore, it shouldn’t have been left to grow out as it had been. Should have been cut by his Master already. But Qui-Gon wasn’t in a state to do so; and Obi-Wan couldn’t bear the thought of anyone but his beloved Master claiming his Padawan mark.

Just the thought of it when his braid brushed against his chest had tears prickling at his eyes and the redhead sucking in a quick breath to hide the sob that had wanted to break free. No, he wasn’t going to give up on his Master. If he gave up, then how could he possibly hope his Master would ever return to his side?

One hand lifted, pressing flat over his mouth as he tried to keep from sobbing. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Qui-Gon was supposed to be alive and well, his quarters filled with plants and the living Force flooding the entirety of their quarters simply from the Jedi Master’s presence. Instead, it felt dead. As if there was no life to be found there in their quarters even though Obi-Wan could feel his heart pounding in his chest. 

Damnit, how was he supposed to face life without his Master? 

_Please!_ He felt his lips move against his own palm, his other arm crossed across his belly, his fingers digging into the softness of his side. At least his throat was tight enough with his emotion that there was no chance of sound leaving his lips. _Please don’t leave me, Master…_

Obi-Wan doubted that his begging would make any difference at all, but he couldn’t help it either. He just wanted Qui-Gon to wake up, wanted to see his Master’s gorgeous smile even once more, hear his name on that wonderful tongue just one more time…

_Don’t leave me alone, I need you...please, Master,_ He could feel himself shaking, the heat of the water doing nothing to stop the way he shook. _I can’t do this without you…_

_Padawan?_

He sucked in a gasp, chest feeling so tight he felt as if his very breath had been stolen. It had to be his imagination, their training bond had never allowed them to speak in words to one another, but oh Force, it sounded just like his beloved Master. He sank heavily to his knees, hand still covering his mouth in an attempt to keep himself silent even as he felt the tears start to fall.

_Please, Master, come back to me….please…_ Each time he put word to his plea, he found his lips forming the words.

Eyes clenched shut, tears streaming down his face, he begged and pleaded with his Master, with the Force, with anyone or anything that might be listening to him. Obi-Wan didn’t know how long he’d sat there begging and pleading, trying to bargain no matter the cost, but eventually, the water ran cold. Not that he noticed that either until he was shaking so hard from the chill that his teeth started to clack together.

Slowly forcing his cold stiffened body to straighten up, he reached up to turn the water off. Hand slowly peeling away from his face, he sucked in a quick breath of air as he gave one final plea.

_Don’t make me do this alone…._ ”Please…” The last word passed his lips, a shaking sob, a whisper that barely reached his own ears let alone those of anyone else.

Forcing himself to slowly stand up, he reached for his towel, quickly drying off his body before he pressed the towel to his face. It took him several more moments of standing there crying for him to get himself under control enough to dress. As he worked on putting his small ponytail back in place, he made himself count his breathing so that he could pull himself together before he left the ‘fresher. 

When the tears finally stopped falling, he wiped his face once more before wiping the mirror clean so he could check how obvious his crying jag had been. The redness to his face had been expected, even the puffiness to his lips from being pinned so harshly between his palm and teeth wasn’t a surprise.

But the golden eyes staring back at him shocked him to the point he stepped back, slamming into the shower door.

“Soren!”

**Author's Note:**

> Mirraquian Dictionary  
> Naiay (Nai-ay)  
> Vi'ruhl (Vih-rule)  
> Mirraqui/Mirraquians (Mih-rock-we/Mih-rock-we-ans) - one of two races who live on the planet Mirraq  
> Morshiini/Morshiniic (More-sheen-ee/More-sheen-ic) - the other race who live on Mirraq  
> Rut'il (Root-ihl) - Home/house  
> Kar'rym (Car-Reem) - Words of respect, a word at the beginning and end whenever one speaks  
> Filla'jai (Feel-ah-sh-eye) - Mother  
> Kael'il (Kale-ihl) - Bathing Chambers/bathroom  
> Jada (Shah-dah) - Male  
> Nare (Nah-ree) - Left (The direction)  
> Phire (F-ih-ree) - Behind (the direction)  
> Aiali'ko (Eye-awl-ee-ko) - The ceremony to welcome in the cool season and promise honesty and life are important  
> Vir'yai'ifir (Veer-y-eye-ih-fear) - A moss that is dried and burnt to keep one honest  
> Xia'tok (She-ah-talk) - A bright pink flower that is dried and added to fires for certain rituals and is and aphrodisiac  
> Naava (Nah-vuh) - Ambassador  
> Ta'liac (Tah-lee-ah-ss) - Matron

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [You Cannot Go Against the Force - Obi-Wan Kenobi Fan Art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23386843) by [Informative_Dandy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Informative_Dandy/pseuds/Informative_Dandy)




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